#there was someone in the gay social hour who said she had gotten kicked out of multiple catholic churches (for being trans)

[iscariotapologist]

today in church one of the priests referred to trans people as "those who are growing into the gender they were called to be" and i'm kind of enjoying the idea of like....divinely ordained top surgery

[kj-1130]

Listen to Me

Uswnt x reader

⚠️mentions of fighting/violence, cursing, Chad being an asshole, mentions of racism, homophobia, and sexism. Lemme know if there’s more I missed.⚠️

Main Masterlist

It was time for another camp. You were the last to arrive due to still being in school and having to be there as many hours as you possibly could.

So here you were in the airport walking towards a pissed off Alex Morgan and Christen Press.

The day before your flight to camp, you had gotten into trouble. Trouble meaning you got into a fight. And word got to your teammates.

“Hello my favorite, most amazing people in the whole wide world.”

Alex simply rolled her eyes and grabbed your suitcase before walking towards the exit with you and Christen trailing behind.

You lowered your gaze to the terminal floor. Christen tried to catch your eyes but ultimately failed and decided just to look straight forward as she talked.

“You know, you shouldn’t resort to violence, (y/n). I don’t know what happened but everyone’s pretty upset and disappointed right now.”

Ouch. The disappointment card. Just had to pull that one like you haven’t heard it just about everyday of your life. You were honestly confused if people were actually disappointed when they said it or just used it as a guilt trip.

The ride to the hotel was full of silence. And not one of those silences where you feel comfortable with the people you adore and love. It was one of those silences where it made you nervous and anxious. It made you fidget and uncomfortable.

Getting your room assignment, being with Tierna, you tried to book it up the stairs. That worked for all of five seconds until you were called into the meeting room.

You reluctantly stepped down and made your way to the space and left your suitcase by the door. In the room were almost all the responsible/‘scary when they want to be’ ones. Sitting down in a chair with a sigh, you looked down at your fidgeting hands and waited for someone to start talking.

The silence that filled the room was very tense. All that could be heard was the movement of your hands and breathing.

When you thought things couldn’t get any worse, the most mama-bear of them all, Carli, spoke up.

“You know you can lose your spot for stuff like this right? You got into a fight, this is not something you need to be taking lightly at all. I don’t care what caused it, but you need to fix whatever’s going on with your behavior and attitude because you’ve been off for the past few weeks anyway. If something like this happens again, we won’t hesitate to take some disciplinary actions ourselves. Am I clear, (y/n)?”

You mumbled ‘crystal’ and attempted to leave the room only to get pulled down by Ash. “Now do you wanna tell us what started the fight?”

You were honestly getting really uncomfortable. Any movement you were making at the moment was probably the only thing keeping you from breaking right now; the furrowing of your eyebrows, the rolling of your shoulders, scratching your arms, bouncing your leg. You probably looked crazy.

You shrugged your shoulders and started spinning in your chair.

Ash put her hand on it and prohibited it from being able to move. “That was not a suggestion.”

Sighing and dragging your hands over your face you told them, “A boy knocked books out of my hands and pushed me so I pushed him back. He didn’t like that so he threw the first punch and I wasn’t about to let him push me around so I beat his ass.”

It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the full truth. Yes he did push you. And yes he did hit you first. But there was so much more to the situation than that.

“Look I’m tired and I have work I need to do. If you want to scold me anymore, just please save it for tomorrow.”

Honestly you had never run up stairs so fast. The situation was so awkward and the way everyone was staring at you didn’t make anything better. There was so much disappointment in their eyes.

It’s like what you do will never be enough for anyone.

-

The next day everyone came down from breakfast. You went to sleep after 12 due to having work piled up from your asshole teachers. It’s not like they grade half of it anyway.

You still didn’t understand one of the lessons so decided to watch some YouTube videos on it and take notes while eating breakfast. That also gave you an excuse to sit away from anyone who would possibly want to lecture you about your ‘reckless actions’.

You were the last one down. Deciding to already have headphones in—to ignore anyone calling your name—you grabbed your breakfast and sat down at a table by yourself. Pulling your notebook and pencil out, you started the video and took notes while eating.

You could feel their eyes burning holes in your head. You’d honestly prefer they just come ask what they wanted than staring at you like some museum exhibit.

You just ignored it and did your work. That was easier said than done as Casey came over, sat next to you, and snatched your earphones out.

“Hey!” You scrambled to pause the video so you didn’t miss anything. “I was watching that.”

Turning to Casey, you pushed your glasses up and gave her a look that said ‘can I help you?’

“Don’t give me that face. I’m not the one you need to be having an attitude with.”

“I-I don’t have an attitude though.”

“Stop talking.”

You purse your lips, nod your head, and start bouncing your leg waiting to hear whatever she wanted to say to you.

“Look, I don’t know what’s been going on at school or at home but everyone can tell you’re on edge. Isolating yourself isn’t going to help anyone-”

“But I’m not isolating myself.”

“Interrupt me one more time, child.”

Casey was your first team mom. When you joined the red stars, she immediately took you under her wing and she became your mentor. The two of you worked well together and she constantly kept you on track. She was very nice but could be very strict when she wanted to be.

“All I’m saying is you’re making yourself look more guilty to them because you’re sitting over here looking like you’re all up in your feelings. You aren’t in your feelings. Right? Cause that’d be another conversation I’d have to have with somebody’s child and-”

You cut her off with your chuckle and shook your head. “Casey, I’m fine.”

She nods her head and contemplates for a few seconds, “Alright, come sit at the table with me then.”

“But I’m working.”

“Okay. You can work over there too.”

You simply watched as she grabbed your phone, notebook and breakfast to the table with a gaped mouth.

You blinked at her while she mouthed ‘come here’. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself out the seat and slowly made your way over. You sat down and reached out for your phone only for Casey to snatch it away.

“I need to do my work. What did you do that for?”

“Your work can wait. Socialize,” she said while putting your phone out of work.

With raised eyebrows you said, “Seriously?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?”

Huffing you turned in your seat and played with your food. You’d honestly lost your appetite this morning; it was only 9 in the morning and people were already testing your patience.

You looked up and your eyes locked with Carli’s.

“Stop playing with your food, (y/n).”

You put your fork down and just got up to throw your food away. You couldn’t deal with this right now.

-

The two weeks of camp was boring and went by agonizingly slow. It consisted of pretty much the same routine; you’d do work after training, work during breakfast and spend any free days or breaks by yourself (occasionally with Tierna) in your room, on your phone looking at ways to improve and tricks to do.

It became annoying when all the vets constantly reprimanded you for the smallest of things. With Carli, it’d be ‘stop playing around so much’. With Alex it’d be ‘pick up after yourself’. Even Kelley was doing it for fuck’s sake.

You honestly couldn’t wait to leave and at least be somewhere where all the attention isn’t on you.

-

When you got to the airport, your girlfriend was there waiting for you. She pulled you in her arms and any leftover tension from the past two weeks immediately went away. She always knew how to make you feel better.

The two of you drove to her house and went over some school work before going to bed for the night. It wasn’t an unusual routine between you two.

When the alarm went off in the morning both of you groaned. The school you went to was a total pain in the ass and regardless of what day it was, you could count on it to be an awful day. It was a predominately white school with only 2 percent being a person of color; you and your girlfriend being part of that 2%. Half of them were racist, sexist, homophobic, and just all around assholes.

Walking into the school building, you could immediately feel all eyes on you. Trying to get past it, the two of you just went to your lockers with your heads down.

“Aye! Look at me you freak!”

It was the same dude you got into a fight with last time(his name is Chad by the way). Apparently a black eye didn’t teach him shit.

“When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it.”

He grabs your shoulders, turns you around and pins you to the lockers.

“You see my eye?”

“Yeah, you got your ass beat by a girl. What you gonna do about it?”

He punched you in the stomach hard.

“(Y/n)!” Your girlfriend. You looked up at her and shook your head signaling her not to get involved.

“Ima make you look worse than you made me-”

“Are you sure about that? Last time you failed, what makes you think it won’t happen again?”

Chad chuckles and shakes his head.

“You think you’re all that with that equal pay shit, and your racial equality and women loving women crap. Guess what you little bitch I’m going to end you and all those lesbians and gays and anybody else who thinks they deserve equality because you don’t. You don’t belong here. Just go kill-”

You kicked him in his balls, twisted his arm behind his back, and pulled it. When you heard that crack you smirked and leaned down to his ear.

“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of your racist, sexist, homophobic, buddies, but lemme tell you. You don’t own anybody nor are you superior to anybody. Do I make myself clear?”

He only grunted but you pulled tighter which made him yell out.

“I said, ‘do I make myself clear’?”

“Yes!”

You pushed him on the ground and walked over him to your girlfriend.

“Why in the world would do that? You know what they’re going to do to you. You might not even get invited back to camp!”

“Babe, calm down. I honestly don’t care at this point. And neither should you.”

“(Y/n) (L/n)! My office! Now!”

You gave her a kiss and walked away slowly.

“Wish me luck.”

-

“You seriously got into another fight! What is going on with you!”

It was the first thing you heard when walking into the hotel lobby. Literally everyone was there. From the youngings to the vets. Surprisingly, you were called back to camp, but you honestly think it was just so everyone could scold you. Carli was absolutely livid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything at the moment since you were so pissed.

Walking past the team, you attempted to make it to the stairs, only for Casey to grab the back of your shirt and pull you back towards the tables. She pushed you down into a seat and took your belongings away from you.

You tried to get back up but you were only pushed down again.

Carli bent down and stared you dead in the eye.

“What is going on with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. What I did was what I intended to do. It was no mistake.”

Alex interrupted, “(Y/n), you don’t understand-”

“No you don’t understand!” You stood abruptly from the chair and slammed your hands on the table. The chair fell and it was absolute silence.

You’d never been so loud. You were always on the quiet side and this was the biggest reaction anyone had ever seen from you.

You were heavily breathing, staring at Carli, the adrenaline pumping through you.

“Did they tell you what he did to me?! Did they tell you what he calls me, my girlfriend and every other female, lgbtq member, or person of color in that school?! No! Because they don’t give a shit. And they won’t give a shit until it’s one of their kids getting hurt!”

There was no dry eye in the room. Your hands were shaking and you took a deep breath to calm down. In a lower voice you spoke.

“They don’t give a damn about my well-being so why should I give a fuck about theirs?”

Taking a few more trembling breaths, you wiped the tears off your face.

“So excuse me for being off for the past few weeks. This shit will take a toll on anybody. And you can cut the bullshit with the ‘don’t fight fire with fire’ cause that’s the only way something gets through those thick ass skulls. They don’t allow you to do it peacefully. They don’t allow you to educate them.”

You looked at Casey with tears in your eyes.

“I just wanna go to school and get an education and be treated like a normal human being. What’s wrong with that?”

Crystal came over to you and caught you before you fell. She lowered you both to the floor as you sobbed your heart out. You kept mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ into her neck between breaths as she rocked you back and forth trying to console you.

Casey and Christen were the next ones over, the latter rubbing your back while the other was trying to wipe away the onslaught of tears on your face.

“Shh, shh baby. You did nothing wrong.”

Soon, every member of the team was crowded around. Tears were streaming down everyone’s face. Their baby, only 16, was going through all this stress and pain. Because of something no one deserves.

You eventually calmed down after 15 more minutes of crying. You’d been transferred to Casey’s lap, and your team mom was trying to comfort you to the best of her ability.

Casey took your face in her hands and wiped all the tears off. “You don’t need to be sorry, alright? There was nothing you did wrong. Stop saying sorry.”

You nodded your head and she kissed your forehead.

Everyone was still crying or wiping waterfalls of tears away.

They watched as you got up and searched frantically for something. You got your phone out of your backpack and turned it on. While you were pacing, the Home Screen popped up and you quickly logged in to text your girlfriend. One, because you always text her when you get to the hotel and two, if Chad and his stickman buddies hurt her, you were absolutely going to lose your shit.

When you logged in to your phone, you saw she already messaged you saying that you should talk to the others.

“Kinda late for that,” you muttered.

“What did you say, hun?” Christen asked.

You just shook your head and texted her back.

Gf: I mean we could always try to talk to the board.

You: Or

You: We could go on strike.

Gf: I-

Gf: I’m done talking to you.

You: wait no! Don’t leave me.

You: I love you

You had a frown on your face when you put your phone away.

Casey pulled you back down into her lap. “What’s with the frown?”

You groaned and threw your head back. “She’s such an asshole. She left me on read!”

The team chuckled, glad to see you was somewhat back to yourself.

Your phone dinged and you pulled it out. She said ‘I love you too, weirdo’

There were a few moments of silence as everyone was thinking of what to do.

“Can we go on strike?”

“No!”

Casey flicked your ear for that.

Tobin spoke up, “Let’s create awareness first. Maybe identify the school board, post all the school’s faults on social media. I don’t know, just some ideas.”

Carli nodded her head. “Look, we’re here for you. For everyone in that school that’s been wronged. We’re gonna help you alright?”

You nodded your head and leaned back onto your team mom.

“And if all else fails, we go on strike.”

“Oh my god.”

—————-

Lowkey think this was trash but eh. I don’t really care at this point but uh this topic is very serious and what I put in here doesn’t even compare to what happens irl.

[janetbrown711]

🥺 Writing ask abt eah with apple and darling "You're not a machine or- or some thing, you're a person, and I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise"

Apple was getting ready to go home for a party- a birthday party to be more specific. Her birthday party if you really wanted to go into detail. 

It was May, the beginning of summer. Not that summer truly meant much in Ever After High- it was a year-round school after all, but it did mean a little bit of time would be allotted for students to spend some time at home and relax. 

However, Apple was not relaxed- not in the slightest. It was only a little while ago Darling had broken her curse and they realized they were each other’s destined true loves. It had only been a few weeks since they started dating officially and now Apple was going to have to go home and see her mother for the first time outside of video calls since the Dragon Games. Not only that- Her mother was planning on hosting a giant birthday gala for her- and she let her invite her entire class as well as half of Ever After just for fun. 

Sure, this meant she was able to continue to hang out with her friends and be herself for at least the night, which she’d enjoy, but it also meant things could easily slip- especially if someone thought they could get something out of outing her to her mother. Darling tried to assure her no one would be that cruel, but Apple feared otherwise. Goodness knows Ever After High has no shortage of mischievous students. Kitty, Duchess, and Faybelle to name a few.

And goodness knows her mother wasn’t exactly the understanding type either. 

At least her friends would be there... and Darling. Darling usually made everything feel a lot better. Though... perhaps tonight that wouldn’t be best. She had to act like nothing happened- that she wasn’t gay. Oh god... this was going to be a long break. 

“Got everything packed?” Raven asked, a trunk of clothes levitating in dark purple magic next to her. Apple sighed and rubbed her forehead. 

“Yep,” She faked energy and enthusiasm. “All ready to go to my mom’s.” Raven cringed.

“I know it’s gonna suck, but hey, we’ll at least be here for the night. That’s something, right?” Raven placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“It... is,” Apple said. “But you know how it is. She’s all ‘follow your destiny- be popular- be pretty or else’ and blah.”

“I kinda know the feeling, yeah...” Raven sighed. “But hey, technically you do have destiny on your side. True loves kiss and all that.” 

“True,” Apple chuckled a little, going to the window and whistling for birds, who quickly went to her trunk of clothes and lifting it for her. “But...”

“I know, not that easy,” Raven admitted. “Not everyone is blessed with parents who were already destined to be evil so they really don’t care if your bi or not.” 

Apple snorted. “Yeah.” 

“You got this. And remember- if anything should happen, Briar, Darling, and I are totally willing to take you in for a spell,” Raven reassured. This did very little to comfort Apple, though she appreciated the effort. 

“Thanks,” She decided to say, though the thought that she could possibly be kicked out of her own home scared her more than when Raven decided not to sign the Storybook of Legends- which was why she was determined to keep her secret, no matter what. 

“Well- my dad’s waiting for me. I’ll see you at the party,” Raven said, checking her mirror phone. 

“I’ll walk with you,” Apple said. Raven nodded, and together they made their way down the many, many flights of stairs. The girls didn’t say much, as Raven was busy texting, while Apple was doing her best to practice her happy face before they finally reached the bottom, where Darling and Maddie were waiting for them. 

“Apple! Raven! There you two are,” Maddie beamed at them, and Raven chuckled. 

“Hey Apple,” Darling smiled giving her girlfriend a peck on the cheek. Apple smiled. 

“Hey,” She said, before scanning around. 

“Relax, the limo is outside, we’ve one last moment to ourselves,” Darling said, holding her hands. 

“We’re literally right here,” Raven rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Oh hush,” Apple rolled her eyes. 

Maddie gasped. “You kiss Darling with that mouth?” she giggled. 

“Whatever. I’ll see you two at the party,” Apple snickered, and Raven and Maddie took their cue and headed out. 

“You ready?” Darling asked, pulling Apple away from the stairs. 

“Not in the slightest,” She admitted with a pathetic laugh. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right beside you the whole night if needed,” Darling said, tucking a loose strand of Apple’s hair behind her ear. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of... I want to be with you so bad, but if she were to find out...” Apple didn’t need to finish the thought. She sighed.

“I know,” Darling sighed. “Just- know no matter what I’m on your side, and what we have is very, very real, and she can’t take it away from us, okay?” Darling asked, Apple nodded, leaning and the princesses shared a quick but passionate kiss.  

“I know. I’ll see you tonight,” She said, giving her a hug, which Darling quickly returned. 

“Should anything happen, just call for me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” She promised. 

“My knight in shining armor,” Apple smiled at her. 

“You know it,” Darling winked and teased. Apple gave her another quick hug before forcing herself to let go and go to her ride. 

Not to Apple’s surprise in the slightest, her mother wasn’t there to pick her up, just the usual dwarf or two. The birds dropped off her luggage in the trunk of the limo and Apple took her seat. Once they started going, she immediately slumped and tried not to think as her mirror phone blew up with texts from Briar and her other friends in support and details about how great this party was going to be. 

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of being driven, she finally arrived at her castle, and walked right inside, the dwarves taking care of her luggage for her. 

Not to her surprise once again, her mother wasn’t there to greet her. Instead, there was a table with some flowers and a single slice of apple pie (long cold by now) waiting for her, with a note that read:

“So happy you’re here my little apple dumpling. So sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you, but I’m very busy planning tonight’s party. 

Hugs and Kisses,

-Mummy”

Darling hated when her mother babied her, but she wasn’t ready to face her quite yet, so she took her mother’s absence as a mercy more than the blatant neglect it was. Apple took the pie, tossed it in the nearest garbage, before stopping by the kitchen, grabbing an apple, and heading off to her room to pass the hours away until the party. 

No place like home alright. 

Her phone was still blowing up from texts from Briar, but Apple figured she’d just wait until Briar passed out to try and answer them all- goodness knows that girl sends 50 texts that could easily have just been four, though she said it “preserved the tone that way”. She loved Briar, but she could be a lot at times. 

Apple sighed as she entered her room and flopped onto her overly fluffy bed and pondered if her mom kept any poisoned apples around so she could just skip this whole mess and wake up whenever Darling would be able to get past her mother’s guards and they could just run away into the sunset. Or if she could jump out her window and Darling could be there to catch her...

A girl could dream. 

Eventually, she just decided to scroll social media to pass the time, making sure to like any and posts wishing her a happy birthday, though deciding not to comment. Sure it was highly unusual, but she simply did not have the energy today. 

She was probably on her mirror phone for hours, when there was a knock at her door. Apple took in a deep breath, putting on her happy face, before opening and finding out her mother was on the other side. 

“Apple darling, how was the ride home?” She asked, not waiting for Apple to invite her in. 

“It was great mom,” She said, closing the door behind her. 

“Good, good,” Her mother nodded to herself, before turning and looking her up and down. “Are you wearing that to the party?” 

“No, Lizzie Hearts actually designed me this dress I’ve been dying to wear-”

“Oh, that’s good. Can’t have you turning another year older in that old thing,” She said, gesturing to her dress. Apple only nodded. 

“You excited for tonight? I’ve spent all week planning for you,” Snow grinned, going to her tablet and tapping a few things.

“Yep! Totally hexcited,” Apple gave a thumbs up. 

“You going to start on your hair soon?” Snow asked, not looking up. 

“Yep yep,” It was getting harder for her to be enthusiastic. 

“Good,” Snow nodded, turning off the device and looking back to Apple, thinking a moment before smiling. 

“You’re growing up so fast my little apple, darling,” She said. “Time really flies when you’re away at that school.” 

“I guess, yeah. Though- it’s almost hard to tell with all those tests,” Apple joked. Snow laughed. 

“Professor Rumplestilskin keeps you busy?” The queen said. 

“He’s just like you described,” Apple confirmed. Snow chuckled. 

“Older I bet, though. Goodness knows that old miser has probably only gotten worse with age, unlike some people,” She grinned. Apple nodded once more, not really knowing how to respond. 

Snow White paused. “Something on your mind, my little dumpling?”

“Nope! I’m absolutely perfect,” Apple internally panicked, quickly putting on a cheesy smile.

“Good, but do know if anything’s wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me, alright? One of the dwarves can handle it,” Snow patted her head. 

“I know, mom,” Apple really hated it when she babied her. 

“Right,” The queen nodded to herself. “Well then- I’ll let you get ready now. I really do hope you’ll like this party- All of Ever After is coming in your honor,” She said, beginning to exit. 

“Yipee,” Apple said halfheartedly. 

“Hate to go, but a few things need to be finalized. Hugs and kisses darling, see you later” Her mother blew a kiss as she headed out. 

Once her mother was out of earshot, Apple flopped onto her bed, grabbed a pillow, smushed it against her face, and groaned. 

This was going to be a long, long night. 

.o0o.

Despite everything, Darling was glad to be home. Sure, her parents didn’t exactly know about the fact she was the white knight and she had to constantly make sure Daring didn’t accidentally spill the beans, but other than that her family was fun to be around- which was more than she could say for other families in Ever After. After all, her parents knew she was gay practically from the moment she was born- as a girl “prince charming” practically set it up from the beginning. 

What they didn’t know was that she was dating Apple, meaning that Daring had failed and wasn’t Apple’s destined Prince Charming, but that she was instead. That was a secret she didn’t have to worry about Daring sharing because despite him realizing his destiny was likely with Rosabella, he was still deeply embarrassed by the whole thing. 

Still, it was an unspoken agreement between the Charming siblings not to speak a word of what happened at the dragon games- not until Apple was ready to tell her mother anyway. 

But despite all this, she was still happy to be home, as it meant she could return to her familiar backyard and practice sword fighting with her brothers in their favorite hang-out spot, where their father used to make them practice “saving damsels in distress”. It was a nice little spot that the siblings spent years building and crafting to perfection, with chairs, hammocks, some of Dexter’s favorite books, swords and dummies for practice, and a few mirrors to suit Daring’s vanity, as well as an elaborate bell system that reached back to the castle in case their parents needed them but didn’t want to go searching. 

However, the one downside of the nook was that there was terrible cell reception. 

“Darling, you have got to relax and stop stressing about Apple, the party isn’t for several hours, take a mirror and nap on the hammock. I know it works like a charm for me,” said Daring, admiring himself as he advised his baby sister. Darling rolled her eyes.  

“Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t panicking as much as I am. I swear you and Rosabella have been texting constantly ever since the whole ‘winter in summer’ fiasco,” Darling pointed out, deciding to somewhat take his advice and sit in the hammock. 

“I took his phone while we were in the car, it was driving me insane,” Dexter patted his pocket. Darling snorted. 

“Don’t encourage him, it was rude,” Daring shot his brother a glare.  

“Alright, calm down you two,” Darling rolled her eyes. “though- if you want we can settle this the old-fashioned way.”

“Uh-uh. No sword fighting- not today anyway. Mom said we have to stay ‘clean and pristine’ for the party tonight,” Dexter said. 

“Lame,” Darling groaned, refreshing her mirror phone once more, but not getting any better results than the fifty times she tried before. 

“Darling, you seriously need to relax. Apple’s dealt with her mother her whole life, she’ll be okay for a few days,” Dexter said. 

“Easy for you to say,” Darling rolled her eyes, trying again but still getting nothing. 

“Yeah bro, don’t underestimate this whole thing. You know how the Queen can be,” Daring pointed out. 

“Okay, you got me,” Dexter huffed, putting a bookmark in and closing his book. “I’m just trying to get you to relax.”

“You know what’d relax me? A good sword fight,” Darling’s eyes shone mischievously. 

“I’m not gonna fight you- I always lose and always end up bleeding somehow,” Dexter shook his head. “Plus- mom said no fighting.”

“Daring?” She turned to her eldest brother. 

“No can do Darling. Gotta stay handsome for the party, keeps away the suspicion,” He pulled out his mirror once more, checking out his own reflection again. 

“You guys are so lame,” Darling groaned. 

“What time even is the party, anyway?” Dexter asked. 

“I think the palace doors open at 5, but that’s if you’re insanely early and-”

“-And everyone knows it’s best to be fashionably late as opposed to early,” Daring interrupted her. 

“I’m gonna go get ready,” Darling decided, swiftly getting off the hammock. 

“Isn’t it a little early to be getting ready? It’s only 3,” Dexter pointed out. 

“Mom’s probably going to make me scrub the dirt from my nails like- 50 times before the party so we’ll see how long this takes,” She sighed. “The plights of being a girl.”

“You say that like Daring isn’t right there,” Dexter snarked. 

“He makes a good point, Darling. I should be getting ready too,” He said, putting away his mirror. 

“Dex, you coming then?” Darling asked. Dexter sighed, putting his book away. 

“I guess so,” He said, and the Charming Siblings left their nook to head back into the castle. 

After that it was hours of priming and preening, Darling barely had the time to check her phone as the handmaids chatted her ears off about gossip she couldn’t have cared less about, which was made worse when her mother came in and started talking about gossip amongst the royals about who was dating who and fashion trends or whatever. Darling was hardly paying attention, having never cared about these types of things.

 It wasn’t like she disliked getting dressed up and doing her hair and painting her nails and such, it was just- when the maids and her mother did it, they hardly ever asked her what she wanted and Darling could never really get a word in on such matters. Hell- the most her mother had probably ever listened to her was when she came out, and when she begged her to let her go to Ever After High and stop being homeschooled. Other than that, she was pretty sure nothing got through, as her mom had a clear preference for Dex, and her dad had a preference for Daring. 

Whatever, she had her own way to cope. If she could just get her phone...

“Aaaand, done. Oh now don’t you just look gorgeous,” One of the maids said, placing the final touch on her dress. Darling snapped back in the moment, taking a second to admire the dress they put her in, nodding briefly in approval, quickly walking over to check her phone. 

No texts from Apple. 

She was probably just getting ready too, Darling had nothing to worry about. 

“So...? What do you think?” Her mother asked. 

“It’s a lovely dress, thanks mom,” Darling said, not really looking at her, sending Apple a quick text. 

“You teens and your mirror phones,” Mrs. Charming rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go looking for your brothers. Don’t mess up that hair.”

“Got it,” Darling still didn’t look up. Her mother sighed before leaving. Darling then thanked the handmaids for their service, then went down to the foyer to wait for everyone. 

Apple still hadn’t replied to any of her messages. Darling shouldn’t have been surprised- it was her party and knowing the queen, she was probably keeping her busy or having her change a million times. She should just... attempt to relax. They’d be at the party soon enough, and Darling could give Apple her gift and keep her safe and happy and loved. 

The gift Darling had gotten her was separate from the “family present” her parents had made for Apple. It was a necklace and a pretty simple one at that. It was gold, and had the engraving of an apple on the front, but on the back, there was a little rainbow. Darling hoped it was subtle enough and that no one would ask any questions, but she really wanted it to be special to her. 

Darling had fallen for many girls throughout the years, but it was easy to say she cared about Apple the most.

Eventually, the rest of her family came down the stairs and it was time to go. 

“You ready?” Dexter asked. Darling shook her head. 

“I’m a Charming, I shouldn’t be this nervous,” She hugged her arms. 

“It’ll be okay. You’re a lot tougher than you think- Apple too,” Dexter reassured. That did help a little. 

“Thanks, Dex,” She said. 

“No problem. Let’s just go and try to have a good time,” Dexter said, clearly trying to hype himself up too. 

“That can’t be too hard, right?” Darling joked a little, stepping into the carriage. 

“I hope not,” Dexter said, following suit, and the Charming Family was off. 

.o0o. 

Apparently, it could be that hard. 

Once they arrived, Darling was greeted at the door by some gruff-looking dwarves who grabbed the family’s present out of Dexter’s hands (Darling kept her gift in her purse) and they were formally announced to the party room before being asked to quickly move aside for other guests. Say what you would about Snow White, but she sure knew how to get things done quickly and efficiently. Darling then went to go and try and greet Apple, but more dwarves said she couldn’t greet the princess until later. She briefly made eye contact with her girlfriend, who sent her a silent distress call she wished she could answer, but alas, she had to wait and try to party with everyone else. 

Of course, it was nice to mingle with her fellow classmates, but they literally just got off of campus just a few hours ago, so outside of complementing everyone’s outfits, dancing a bit, and taking a few photos, there wasn’t much they could do. Piper and Briar did their best to keep things lively, but something about Apple being forced to sit on a throne the whole time away from everyone else really sucked the energy out of the kids, who wanted nothing more than to mingle with her. 

However, after an hour or so, Snow White allowed for the festivities to “officially begin” and Apple was allowed down, though she was quickly overwhelmed by hugs from her friends, which made Darling chuckle as she waited patiently for her turn. 

“You looked like you were going to die of misery if you had to sit there a moment longer,” Darling said as she hugged her. 

“You have no idea. My mother says adding cushions to a throne looks unprofessional so that’s just solid metal baby,” Apple joked tiredly. 

“You’re doing great, Apple. You got this,” Darling whispered. Apple hugged her tighter. 

“I know she means well, but sometimes I seriously want to strangle her,” Apple joked. 

“I know the feeling,” Darling sympathized as she let go so no one would be suspicious. Apple then continued hugging and catching up with other guests, while Darling waited steadily for her to finish. Apple finished, and swiftly- though subtly- returned to her girlfriend’s side. 

“So... wanna dance?” Apple offered. 

“Oh you know I’m a dreadful dancer, that’s not fair,” Darling shook her head as Apple grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor. 

“The way I remember you totally beat Chase in that dance-off,” Apple pointed out. 

“Everyone knows Chase is just about the worst dancer ever after, and we won only because he slipped and fell off the board,” Darling rolled her eyes, but it was too late, as Apple had already gotten her near the center and began to dance. 

“C’mon, it’s fun,” Apple said, her eyes shining under the party lights. Darling sighed in defeat and awkwardly began to dance with her. Apple chuckled a little bit, but reassured her that she was doing great, and soon enough, she loosened up enough to the point that she was actually having a good time. Though of course, this became easier when she saw Apple was having a good time. Perhaps she had been worrying for nothing. Perhaps everything was going to be alright- they’d find ways to reach each other and take care and know they were loved and everything was okay and was going to be okay. 

After an hour or so, once again, the dancing was called to a brief pause, as Apple was dragged off to open her presents while the rest of the party continued, though Snow White did allow Briar, Raven, and Darling to join her. She went to her seat and began unwrapping box after box of presents, each more elaborate and fancy than the last, and Snow White hovered nearby making comments about them, thanking the families who gave them.  Books, jewelry, dresses, tea sets, and all sorts of things were unwrapped one by one, only to be quickly taken away by dwarves, and Darling felt a twinge of guilt for getting her something so minimalistic and small. 

However, after the last one was taken away, Darling took the small box out of her purse and handed it to Apple. 

“A... personal gift? That’s highly unusual,” Snow White commented, and Darling internally panicked. 

“I think it’s a sweet signifier of a good friendship,” Briar commented nonchalantly, though a bit on the nose. Apple smiled at Darling sweetly before opening it and gasping. 

“Darling, it’s beautiful,” She said, admiring the engraving. 

“Rather small isn’t it?” Snow raised an eyebrow. 

“I paid for it myself,” Darling said, trying her best not to give the queen a dirty look. Apple then flipping it over and touched the engraving of the rainbow with her fingers slowly. 

“Oh Darling, it’s absolutely beautiful,” She said softly. 

“A... rainbow?” Snow raised an eyebrow, and Apple quickly turned it over. 

“What’s suspicious about a rainbow? Rainbows are pretty,” Raven tried to defend it, and Darling realized she probably just made the biggest mistake of her life. 

“Rainbows can mean a great number of things,” The queen said, looking at Darling. 

“Rainbows are also just... pretty,” Raven continued to try, but she wasn’t as good as Briar. 

Snow White thought to herself a moment, before ordering for the festivities to continue and for the cakes to be brought out and to begin serving it to the guests. However, after saying that, she turned back to Apple. 

“Apple, darling? A word,” She ordered, walking out of the ballroom. 

“Oh god- Apple, I’m so, so, so sorry-” 

“No, Darling. Don’t be,” Apple stood. “I... I think I can handle this.”

Raven and Briar exchanged a look. 

“Are you sure, Apple?” Raven asked. 

“I... I think so. Briar, keep the guests entertained. I don’t want anyone to stop partying for my sake, okay?” She asked. 

“If that’s what you want,” She nodded, before hugging her. “Just be safe.”

“I will,” Apple hugged her quickly. 

“What about us?” Raven asked. 

“If your mother so much as raises a finger-” Darling started, but Apple stopped her. 

“I... I think I can handle this. She’s my mother, right? I’ve dealt with her before. I-i have facts and destiny on my side,” Apple said, trying to hide her nervousness. 

“Okay... if you want to handle this alone, we’ll let you. But- if you need help, but say the word, alright? Raven and I can be there in a flash,” Darling said. Apple smiled a little, before frowning. 

“I have to go... I’m sorry- she’ll get mad,” Apple turned away. 

“Good luck,” Raven said. 

Good luck. Right. 

Apple took a deep breath before exiting out into the hallway. 

.o0o. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but her heart was pounding in her chest. She was terrified to confront her mother, but she had years of pretending everything was fine under her belt in preparation for this very moment. She entered the hallway to find her mother pacing ever so anxiously in her long and elegant white dress with her usual red cape. However, once Apple entered the scene, her mother’s pacing stopped. 

“Why did that girl give you a present?” Her mother asked. 

“Because I’m important to her and she wanted a way to show that to me,” Apple replied matter-of-factly. 

“Important to her how?” Snow raised an eyebrow. Apple got a bad feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to say- she didn’t have to-

But well...

“Important to her how, Apple?” The queen demanded. 

“W-well... you know how I got poisoned at the Dragon Games?” Apple said. 

“By the Raven girl, I presume?” Snow raised an eyebrow. 

“Mostly her mom, but kinda- that’s not important. What’s important is that it was the apple- like from our story,” She explained. “You know- the ‘true love’s kiss will break the spell’ apple?” 

“Apple, I know my own story,” She gave her a look. Apple tried her best not to crack under it. 

“Well, I was poisoned and in a coma, and Daring tried to kiss me and- well... it didn’t... work,” Apple said. 

“What? What do you mean Daring didn’t work? He’s supposed to be your destined prince, how can this be?” Snow demanded. 

“I-i don’t know- well... I do kinda know...” Apple whispered. 

“I demand an explanation,” Snow ordered. 

“Well- after Daring’s kiss failed everyone was kinda just gonna give up, but Darling was there, and she had this crazy idea, a-and... wellllll...” Apple didn’t finish. 

Snow White paused. 

“You mean to tell me that... princess broke your little curse?” She asked, seething with hatred. 

“Y-yes,” Apple nodded. 

The queen paused again. 

“And what happened after?” She said coldly. 

“W-well for awhile nobody would tell me what happened out of fear of how I’d react, until Darling eventually told be during the whole ‘snow in summer’ fiasco and well- then we... started... dating..?” Apple said that last part quieter than the rest. 

“This is absolutely ridiculous- do you seriously expect me to believe all this?” Snow crossed her arms. Apple blinked. 

“Mom- it’s the truth,” She stated. Her mother laughed. 

“That’s impossible. The Storybook of Legends would never say such a thing,” She said. “The girl must’ve simply done CPR, gotten the piece dislodged from your throat or something.”

“Mom, that’s not what happened- you know how the curse works, ‘true loves kiss’. Darling Charming is my true love,” Apple argued, getting angry now. 

“Don’t you dare address your queen with that tone,” Snow snapped. “The amount of disrespect you’ve had today is outrageous. First the complaining, then the lack of focus, then the lies? I am your mother, but I am also your queen, and I expect the utmost respect, is that understood?”

“Mom, for the last time, I’m not lying! I’m in love and am dating Darling Charming. She broke the curse and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Apple asserted, tears now threatening to spill. 

“What absolute ludicrous. I will not take such blasphemy. Such a relationship is impossible. Go to your room until you’re ready to tell me the truth,” She commanded. 

“N-... No.” Apple put her foot down. 

The queen paused. 

“No...?” She asked, her eye twitching. 

“No. I’ve already told you the truth, so I’m not going anywhere,” Apple glared at her. 

“No daughter of mine would speak to me with such blatant disrespect,” Snow White was aghast. 

“Mom, whether or not you like it, me and Darling are destined for each other, and there is nothing you can do to change that. Even Principal Grimm agrees with me- Principal Grimm!” Apple exclaimed. 

“Do not raise your voice at me, young lady.” The queen threatened. 

“Then listen, for goodness sake,” Apple threw her hands in the air. “I’ve told you nothing but the truth, and you refuse to believe me! Why? For some- stupid outdated idea?” 

“I’ve had enough of this attitude- go to your room. Now.” Snow ordered again. 

Apple didn’t move. 

“I won’t ask again, Apple. Go. To. Your. Room,” She stepped forward, causing Apple to take a step back. 

“G-go ask Principal Grimm if you don’t believe me,” Apple said, trying her best not to crack. Snow slowly walked towards her daughter, until Apple was backed against a wall. The queen grabbed her face. 

“There are hundreds of street orphans far more worthy of your destiny than you are. Do not forget this.” She quickly let go, before walking away, while Apple stood there, dumbstruck. 

Eventually, her knees gave in, and she collapsed into sobs, and Darling burst through the door, and Darling immediately wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay Apple, it’s alright, I’m right here,” Darling did her best to soothe. 

“She doesn’t believe me- sh-she said- sh-she s-sa-said-” 

“It’s okay, Apple. I know... she’s wrong. She doesn’t believe you,” Darling tried with all of her might to squeeze the sadness out of her, but nothing was working. 

“Sh-she said hundreds of o-orphans are f-far more worthy,” Apple hiccupped, and Darling’s heart broke. 

“Apple, she had no right to say that. You aren’t some... machine, you’re a human person. She had no right to ever treat you or make you feel that way,” Darling soothed, but Apple continued to cry, which she couldn’t blame her for. 

This sucked. 

“I love you Apple, you know that, right?” She asked. Apple nodded her head. 

Good. At least she knew that...

“If you need somewhere to stay, I’m sure my parents or Briar’s or even Raven’s wouldn’t mind, okay?” Darling said. Apple nodded again. Darling kissed the top of her head. 

This really, really sucked. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Apple...” She practically whispered. 

“Y-you promise?” Apple looked up at her weakly. Darling wiped some of the tears from her eyes. 

“I promise... maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but I promise, someday it’s gonna be okay, alright?” She asked softly. Apple nodded slowly. 

“Okay...” Apple rested her head on Darling’s shoulder. 

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” Darling asked. Apple shook her head. 

“I wanna stay here... with you,” She said hoarsely. Darling nodded her head. 

“I can do that,” She said, stroking her face softly, wiping more tears away. 

And she meant it. She’d stay right there until Apple felt better, no matter how long it took. Apple knew it, Darling knew it. And despite everything, that did make Apple feel a little bit better. 

She was loved. Perhaps not by her mother, but if she didn’t love her, that was her mistake. 

Her mother was wrong.

 What she and Darling had was love, and nothing could change that. 

[joa-quin-phoe-nix-fan]

The Interview -Joaquin Phoenix FF

!TW! Emotional abuse, death mentioned, grief

The Interview

It was a very bad idea to drink the night before this interview. You knew it then and you also knew it as soon as you woke up that morning, so hungover you could barely distinguish your feet from your hands. “This is bad...” you mumble to yourself as you walk over to what you could only assume was your medicine cabinet, desperately trying to take some ibuprofen before the inevitable headache and nausea kicked in strong.

After a lot of fumbling and trying to shake pills out of a dental floss container for way too long you finally find the ibuprofen and take 2 with a swig of tap water. Then you walk over to your bedside table hoping that your last nights drunken self had remembered to put your phone there. ..you had remembered! Feeling a slight feeling of pride as your phone finally came into focus you turned it on. Although you had remembered to put your phone in the right place for once, you had sadly forgotten to plug it in. It wasn’t dead but you only had 15% left. “Ugh, I can relate...” you sighed as you plugged it in and looked at the time 9:45. Alright so- wait, 9:45?!? You only have 45 minutes to get to a place 30 minutes away by taxi, but that’s only if you somehow managed to immediately get a taxi as soon as you left your building. Which is practically impossible during tourist season. This means you only just have 15 minutes to get completely ready and, more importantly, get sober.

You do a strange mix of stumbling and running to your kitchen grabbing at anything to fill your stomach. You by some miracle manage to successfully make a (maybe slightly too full) bowl of milk and a cup of coffee. You chug the coffee, burning your tongue in the process and you cool it down by chugging your cereal. You look at your phone, 4 minutes have passed. You jump up off your chair and run blindly back to your bedroom stopping only to glance at your face in the mirror of your bathroom and cringe at the streaks of last nights makeup still on your face. Running into the bedroom you desperately look around for the outfit that you had prepared for today, you had kept it in the same spot for a week making sure that it wasn’t in the wash and unavailable to wear today. You look in the spot, now covered in underwear, a scarf and 3 unknown lipsticks probably exchanged in the womens restroom at the bar last night. Underneath it all...the deep green suit you had planned for today! Thank god!

You throw it on and run back to the bathroom, knocking over an array of furniture on the way, grabbing around for your makeup remover and a cotton pad. You desperately wipe at your eyes, not really caring if every bit is wiped off just wanting the giant streaks of sleep-covered makeup gone. You get most of it off, leaving only slight traces of eyeliner and mascara right in your lash-line and practically jump on your makeup bag, trying to check the time at the same time. Sadly your phone had run out of battery at some point while you were attacking your face. “Ah, fuck it!” you mutter as you just chuck it at your bag, thinking that you’ll just have to go without a phone today and that you’ll charge it later. With shaky hands you draw on your eyeliner as precisely as possible, at the end feeling proud that you only fucked it up twice and that they weren’t even that noticeable. You then run to the door, grabbing your bag, vaguely grabbing inside it to make sure you felt your money, your keys, your slightly crumpled resume and your dead phone and run out the door, hoping that there was a taxi just waiting out there. As expected, there wasn’t one. You have no choice but to wait. The minutes pass like hours until finally, just when you were about to give up and start running towards the nearest bus stop (which is 10 minutes away and is twice the journey time) a yellow taxi peeled around the corner at the highest speeds. You wave to it desperately and luckily it screeches to a stop. You climb in and almost yell the address at the driver, you didn’t want to be rude, you were just so desperate.

As soon as your body settled down in the back seat, you started to feel rather dizzy and like you were going to pass out. You try to breathe deep to calm yourself down but it just kinda makes you suddenly nauseous so you resolve to just looking out the window to distract yourself.

As you watch the people and cars zooming past you try to remember what your uncle told you when he said that he got you this interview. “The man who’s going to be interviewing you is named Joaquin Phoenix, you will address him as Mr. Phoenix. You need to tell him about your college, your high school, the two other jobs you’ve had, how long you’ve had them, the fact that you haven’t been fired or reprimanded in the 2 years that you have had those jobs. Don’t get too sappy or tell him about your possible eviction due to your now ex dropping financial support, that will probably just make him think that you’re making it all up because it all seems to sad and ridiculous to be true. He’ll think you’re just trying to work off of his sympathy and will probably not take it well.” You sigh, although you hated how strictly he said it, you knew it was true, and you need this job.

After you broke up with them, you lost everything. They had helped you with taxes, they helped move and put together all your furniture, they were there for you when your father passed away, in fact, they had been with you for the better part of four years. Losing that broke you, physically, mentally and financially. You weren’t mooching or anything, you had your two jobs to pay for most of the bills, and they had their job. They just always helped when you were a couple hundred short, one time even a whole thousand short. This happened practically every month, being a barista and waitress didn’t pay as much as you expected, but they never minded. They always payed the amount, but then they would guilt-trip you. Forcing you to do things that you didn’t want to do because of their false sense of you “owing them” due to how much time and money they had spent on you. Sometimes you weren’t in the mood to “mess around”, sometimes you were too socially anxious to go to a party, sometimes you were just busy with your two jobs to spend every second of your day with them, but they didn’t care. You owed them these things and if you said no, they would threaten to not help you pay next month, or guilt you by bringing up your dad’s death. Both hurt just as bad and they knew this. They wanted to make you get in trouble at work, by making you not go, so you’d lose your job and have to depend on them more but they never succeeded. Although they had manipulated you in so many other ways, they never affected your work ethic. You knew that you needed to be there every day and no matter how much they guilt-tripped you and sent you text after text, voicemail after voicemail, threat after threat, you stayed at work. Once you got home you would fight and fight and scream and cry, they would yell at you, then as soon as you yelled, made their voice calm and condescending, making you seem like you were crazy.

Sometimes, you would even believe it yourself, but 2 weeks, 14 hours and 25 minutes ago, you didn’t bend, you kicked them out and called your mother, uncle and oncle (the uncle on your mothers side was gay and married a french man that you called oncle because that’s uncle in French) and they stayed over that night, with you crying and sobbing, and with them supplying you with chocolate, vodka and no phone. Your mom kept your phone from you like she had done when you were a child, and you’re glad she did, you surely would’ve called them and gotten back together and gotten back to being manipulated.

Since then, your mother, uncle and oncle had been visiting you one by one, checking up on you, making sure you were doing alright. The first night that they hadn’t done this was last night, the night that you went out, got shitfaced, came home, got more shitfaced and destroyed the house. It was the worst night for them to not check up on you, but you didn’t blame them. It was getting old to them, or maybe they were busy, maybe they just thought you were already over it. You weren’t obviously.

You were so deep in thought that you barely heard the taxi driver say “we’re here.” He was patient but he definitely wanted to get paid sometime today so to grab your attention he raised his voice a tad “We’re here ma’am!” You snapped out of it and looked out the window, you were here. You blushed, embarrassed and hastily thanked the taxi driver, paid for the ride and ran out towards the tall silver building in to the left of the car. The quick jump from sitting to running, though, made you reel and you almost fell onto the pavement when you suddenly stopped in mid-air. It took a moment to realize that someone had grabbed you and held you up before you made your face a pavement-pancake. You looked up, it was a man with silver hair, he had a medium sized beard, quite close to his face, not clean-shaven but not a lumberjack beard. Somewhere between there. He wore a shirt, tie and zip-up sweater. Kinda strange but nice-looking. His eyes were a lovely bright green in the morning light but they were so light you at first thought that they were silver. He held you close, with genuine concern written all over his face. “Are you okay, Miss?” His voice was sweet and gravely, and you felt the vibration of his vocal cords run from his chest, through you like a warm shower, slow and comforting.

You had kinda zoned out for a second, and suddenly realized what had happened, what situation you were in and how embarrassing it was. Your face became hot and stung, like as if you had instantly gotten a sunburn. You tried to stand up but your legs did not seem to want to cooperate. Instead of planting on the ground, steady and firm, to support your body weight, your legs decided to just kinda flop about like fish out of water, desperately trying to find the ground. They finally did and you wobbled up, standing, facing him embarrassed out of your mind.

He was patient and held you tight in case you fell again, “It’s okay, I’m here.” Why did he have to say that? Tears welled up in your eyes and the urge to hug this stranger became overwhelming. “Are you okay? What happened?” He asked as the tears fell down your face, worried that he had said something wrong. You started sobbing now, “I’m-I’m fi-i-i-ine..” you said between sobs, “I...[sniff]...I just had a bad morning...[sob] and-and now...I’ve got a job interview here right now and...and...I need this job but...I-I can’t do it!” At this point you were both sitting in the ground in front of each other, him still holding you and listening. “Keep going, I’m here for you” He pressed on, trying to get you to talk more. For an hour you both sat there with this stranger, you telling him everything and him listening carefully. Not really giving any opinion of his own yet, just asking questions to make you tell him more, tell him about how you felt, what you did next, what you remembered in the moments. Slowly at first, you started to feel better. The more you talked, the less you cried, the less you cried, the more you noticed about this man and how handsome he was, he had a small line on his lip, it was hard to see at first through his moustache but you noticed. Maybe it was a scar? You also noticed his teeth as he asked questions, not straight but not completely crooked. Yellow, he was either a coffee drinker, a smoker or both. His fingers were tobacco-stained, he was a smoker. His eyes were perfectly lined with long lashes, giving another layer of beauty to this man’s face. The more you noticed, the more you wanted to know about him. Life went so slow and sweet with him.

You finished everything that you had to say, finally calm and content. He quietly turned his head and furrowed his brow, processing everything you said. He stayed this way for about 5 minutes. You didn’t mind though, it just meant you could simply watch him and forget everything else in life. After a while he spoke, slowly and carefully, choosing each word as if it was the most important decision of his life. “Wow...that is definitely a whole lot to go through in one lifetime. I understand what it’s like to lose someone, I lost both my father and my brother. My brother died of an overdose right in front of me and I lost my father to cancer in 2015. I have no idea what you will need to heal...but for me, I chose to create. I overworked myself at times, hurt the people I love, I came close to giving up at times, but I kept going. Lots of people tell you to never look back but...I find that looking back sometimes can help you heal. You need to look back to know where you came from. The important thing is to not do that forever, otherwise you’ll never move forwards. You seem to have been overworking yourself, both with your work and your relationship. The man, that you were going to have an interview with...he’s me.”

Your stomach dropped. You had completely forgotten about the interview. The words of your uncle repeated in your head. “Don’t get too sappy...that will probably just make him think that you’re making it all up...he’ll think you’re just trying to work off of his sympathy and will probably not take it well.” You instantly drop your gaze and lower your head, ashamed and unbelievably worried. “I’m so sorry Mr. Phoenix, I made it so you weren’t working. I told you everything about my life. I promise you it’s all true and I swear I didn’t try to play off of your sympathy...I had no idea you were...” You glanced up, meeting his gaze. He looked profoundly confused and not at all angry. You blushed beet red and looked down again in apology. You sat there for a couple minutes, tears forming again, blurring your vision. Then something slowly reached for your face. As the tears fell off your eyelashes and landed on your leg, you saw that it was his hand, he slowly placed his pointer finger under your chin and gently pushed your head upwards. You complied and lifted your head, completely ashamed and met his gaze again. What took you completely aback was, that he was smiling at you. “Miss Y/N...I never thought that. I actually was supposed to have time-off during the time of our interview but your uncle is very good at convincing people.” You both laughed at this, for it was indeed true “So I wasn’t kept from work. Finally, I’d be more surprised if your life story wasn’t true, I would say that you’re an amazing actress if that was the case. I know that everything you’ve said has been true, I could even tell that quite a bit was wrong as soon as I saw you left the taxi. It all made sense as soon as you said it.” You smiled at him. You had only just met him that day but you already felt so comfortable around him. Was this love at first sight?

“Well, now that we are properly acquainted, do you want my number so we can make another interview time or maybe even...to go get a coffee?” You blushed again, getting your phone out of your bag, forgetting that it had run out of battery. You cursed at yourself, you should’ve just let it charge. “I’m sorry, but my phone is out of battery...do you have a charger?” “No, I don’t on me...do you want to come over and charge it?” You nodded, unable to speak because you were so flustered and walked with him to his car, excited to see where this day would go.

PS Hey! This is my first FF! I hope whoever reads this likes it and if you want to request a fic or if you want to give tips on writing FFs I'll happily write any FF or take any advice.

[thewalkingfanfictions]

I’m Not Gay -- Sam Winchester x Male!reader

I'm Not Gay — Sam Winchester x male!hunter!reader

Part One / Part Two

Description: Forced out of his motel room by his sister when she and a stranger burst through the door playing tongue wars, (Name) decides to go for walk, where he runs into Sam, tall, handsome, smart, and no, (Name) definitely doesn’t like guys, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Warning: Some internalized homophobia, references to sex, and some cussing. Supernatural-themed gore and violence (they fight vampires)

Genre: Fluff, I guess? A bit of angst in there somewhere probably, too, since I have no self control.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Male!Reader

A/N: I have no idea what the fuck this is. This is such a crack fic. Reader has a sister named Lidia, for reasons that I do not know.

Words without A/N: 2483

Masterlist

<———————>

"You sure you don't wanna come with, (name)?"

"No, Lidia, I'm just gonna stay here and research. 'Sides, socializing is for psychopaths."

Lidia (Last name); ninety-three pounds of redheaded sarcasm, anger issues, and badassery. Also my sister, senior to me by four years ("and three months, (name)!") Also, also, a total extrovert with a thing for trying to force her introverted little brother to socialize. Disgusting.

"C'mon, (nickname), you need to get laid! I could totally find you a pretty, butch boy and—"

"Lidia, for the last time, I'm not gay!"

For the last several years, my darling, amazing, delightful (taste the sarcasm?) big sis has been living under the (totally unfounded) belief that I am a homosexual. I don't know where she seems to have gotten that notion, as I am not. (Summer camp doesn't count, dammit!)

"Mhm, keep tellin' yourself that, lil' bro. But, fine, if you won't come with me–" she dramatically picked herself up from the seat where she'd been fancying up her makeup–"I guess I'll just have to go without you. How terrible, little old me, scared and alone, walking down the road after dark without someone to protect me," she pouted.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. We both know you could kick anyone who tried to bother you's ass without even looking."

Giggling, she picked up her bag (and a few blades) and turned towards the door. Looking back at me one more time, she gave me a middle-fingered salute before about-facing and heading through to the outside.

"See ya later, loser," she called back before the door closed all the way.

Even though she was already gone, I still mumbled a quiet "punk" under my breath after her, before setting off to start my research.

————

Three hours, several coffee refills, a few dead ends, and one (minor) mental break down later, I was really no closer to finding the thing we were hunting, and there was a crash outside the hotel door.

Lidia had been out for a while, there was a chance it was just her returning from whatever bar she had gone to, shit faced and unable to walk correctly, therefore knocking something into the door or the like, or, my least favorite option, it was something supernatural or other here to kill me.

Moving to grab a gun, I silently stalk towards the window beside the door. There's a few more dull thuds on the door, and some odd, wounded-animal type noise comes through the wood. Cautiously, I move the curtain a few centimeters, just enough to peer through without being spotted.

There, pushed up against the door, is my sister, some idiot attached to her at the lips, with hands going places I'd rather not think about when it comes to my sibling.

Grimacing, I turn around, shove my gun into the waistline of my jeans, and move to quickly grab my laptop and a few books. Maybe if I hurry I can get out of here before they actually start fucking, this time.

Hurrying towards it, the door suddenly opens, and in spills a very shirtless (and totally not attractive, what?) man, and my sister, who was now working on pulling her bra off. They shuffle towards one of the beds, and somewhere in the back if my head I register that its my bed that they're going towards as I awkwardly move around them, trying not to alert them of my presence. I didn't wanna deal with that conversation again.

Finally getting all the way to the door, I carefully pulled it open as not to bother the two, and backed out of the doorway. Glancing up, I got a full view of Lidia's tit before I managed to actually get out of the door.

I quietly closed the door, making sure that the click of the hinges was quiet enough that it wouldn't disturb the couple inside.

Pausing for a second, I couldn't help the dramatic shiver that rattled my body.

"That is-- that is far more of her than I ever needed to see," I winced.

Turning to go find a place to settle down while my sister and the stranger... did their thing, I came face-to-face with a brick wall. Well, more face-to-chest, actually, and brick wall wasn't quite right, I guess. He was closer to a tank. Even at the few paces away from me that he stood, he still seemed incredibly tall. Long-ish brown hair curled around his ears, and his face was undoubtedly attractive. A small smile (that I definitely did not find adorable, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm totally, definitely, one hundred percent straight) tugged at full lips and his eyes stared down at me questioningly. I could feel an ugly blush climbing up my neck.

"Uh– heh, uhm, my, my– uh my–" my awkward stuttering was cut off when the man huffed a small laugh, and spoke.

"You must be the brother."

...

"Heh?" His smile only broadened at my perplexed stare and he took a few steps closer to me. I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the guy's humongous stature, though his face seemed innocent and kind enough. Still, in my line of work, you can never be too careful. I instinctively felt my hand reach for the gun still hidden in my waistband.

"In, uh, in there," he pointed lightly at the door I'd just come out of, "my brother, he's the one with your sister. She was talking about a brother at her motel, I, uh, I guess that'd be you," he finished off, trailing out slightly as he realized he had nothing more to say. It was his turn to blush.

I let myself relax slightly, I didn't think he was so much of a threat anymore.

Smiling slightly, I couldn't not let my eyes glance over him.

Uh, in as purely heterosexual way, obviously.

His shoulders were stupidly broad, and under his denim coat I was sure there had to lay muscle. Before, when I said he was tall, I don't think you really got the full picture. The awning thing that came off the front of the hotel to protect anyone on the sidewalk was probably your standard seven foot high roof; this guys head was only a few inches under it. He was huge. His face was young, but had a whisper behind it that said that he'd seen some things someone his age generally didn't. The dimples on either side of that blindingly bright smile made him just so much more attractive, and I couldn't not find him cute. (Once again, in a totally hetero way, I'm really, definitely, completely Not Gay.)

Figuring that I couldn't stand there and gawk any longer without coming off as creepy, I finally spoke up.

"Uh, yeah, Lidia. And your brother. That was–" I shuddered slightly, "–that was a sight I never needed to see."

He chuckled slightly and took a few steps closer to me. I was still a bit wary, but I let him come closer without pulling a gun on him, anyway.

"Yeah, no, it's not pleasant. He's done the same thing to me before."

I blanched up at him (damn, he really is tall) and thought to the scene that was unraveling right inside the door. Didn't he say he was his brother? I mean, to each your own, but damn—

"No! No, not—" he cut off my train of thought, growing redder by the second. He took a few more steps forward until he was right in front of me, holding his hands up in surrender. "I mean— I meant barging into the room with a partner while I was still there like that, not-not that he's—not that he's done, done that—" I cut him off, wanting to end the poor babbling disasters misery.

Cracking a smile, I laugh gently at him and reach out to touch his arm and make him pause.

"Oh-oh, its okay, calm down man, I getcha, I getch—"

MOAN

My sisters pleasured voice cut me off and made me freeze up, my face burning red.

"Nope, nope, nopety nope nope nope, can we please go anywhere else and continue this conversation? Literally anywhere, oh my fuck, oh my—" I started walking before he could say anything, not wanting to have to suffer through another sound like that.

He chuckled again as I passed him and quickly caught up to me, reaching out to gently grab my arm before I got to far.

"My, uh– we could hang out in my room for a while. 'Till they're, ya know, done," he grimaced and nodded his head towards the room to the direct right of ours. He hadn't seemed dangerous so far, so I mean, why not?

I nodded hesitantly and let the man lead me into the room, noting the fact that his hand didn't leave my arm until the very last second.

He let me in first and closed the door softly behind us. I have never been so thankful that these walls were thicker than any other motel's walls in existence. If I focused hard enough, I could almost imagine that the faint moaning was just sound coming from the little box TV.

The room was set up pretty much the same as ours. The same, mildewy wallpaper, two twin sized mattresses on either side of the room with the same pale comforter tucked around a paper pillow. A few littler things did stick out to me, though. The pre packed buggout bags sitting right at the end of both beds, the laptop that sat on the bedside table with a bunch of papers laying haphazardly around it, a half-drank coffee cup sitting beside it. The scene seemed oddly familiar.

"My, uh," the man's voice cut off my searching eyes, "my name's Sam, by the way. I don't think I said that before." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and I definitely didn't find it cute. At all. Nope.

Sam. It fit him. I like it.

Smiling up at him, (and totally not noticing how his frame would almost take up the entire door frame that he stood beside) I opened my mouth to respond, only to be cut off again by a crash from the room next door and an even louder moan. I grimaced, the awkwardly smiled up at him once again.

"I'm (name), it's, uh, it's nice to meet ya?" How do people socialize again?

"Uh, yeah, nice to meet you, too." Well that's reassuring, at least he seems just about as nervous as I am.

He stepped forward a bit and awkwardly held his hand out to me, which I accepted with a small, close-lipped smile. The moment our skin made contact, I genuinely didn't want to let go. The warmth of his overly-large hand was intoxicating, and his touch made me oddly giddy.

Looking up into his eyes, I found, was a total mistake. A stunning mixture of smokey hazel and green, small flecks of honey dotted his iris'. His eyes seemed so deep. Seemed so much older than they really were, once again, like he'd seen far more in his life than an average man his age could ever claim. Not to be dramatic or anything, but he was absolutely captivating.

I don't really know how long we sat there and stared at each other, but by the time I finally realized how weird it probably was, and forced myself to look away, I was starting to feel a bit light headed. Let's blame that on lack of sleep and an excess of coffee, and not on whatever was causing my stomach to flutter so dangerously as it was.

"Heh," I looked down towards our feet, my face flushing dramatically. I'm sure by now I'm about as red as a baboons ass, and only flushing redder as I realized that he was still holding my hand.

"Uh-uhm, so, uh, Sam--" I stuttered pathetically, focussing on the hand that still held mine until he awkwardly let go. "--what, uh, what do you do for a living?"

And so the night kicked off just like that. Soon enough, we were both sat cross legged on the bed, sharing stories (all the ones that I could think of that didn't involve murder or monsters) and trading memories. I learned that he had planned to be a lawyer, and was almost done with his course when some unmentioned family drama popped up, and he had to take a sudden leave. I found out that he traveled for work with his brother (a sentence that seemed suspiciously familiar) and that he loved to read. He told me how his girlfriend had died in some terrible house fire only a few months before (my heart definitely didn't freeze up at the fact that he had a girlfriend, shut up) and that he still had nightmares about her. We talked for hours, and, unlike with most people, I never once got bored of it.

I really don't know how long we sat there and chatted, but, by the time the doorframe to the room was vomiting up a sweaty and slightly-drunk older brother, my eyes had started to sag with exhaustion.

"Wa-Sam-Who's this?" Dean (Sam had spoken of him frequently over the evening) slurred slightly, gazing at me with an almost accusatory look. Before I had the chance to respond, Sam was already up and talking, standing between us almost protectively.

"(Name). He's, uh, he's the little brother of the girl you...were with, tonight." He seemed uncertain at exactly what he was saying, but he got the point across.

Being as he was still standing guard in front of me like he was (why on earth was he doing that?), Dean had to lean around him to look at me, which made Sam fidget nervously, for some reason.

"Dean--"

"(Name), you should probably be headed back, it's getting kinda late and I'm sure your sisters wondering where you're at," Dean cut his brother off, leaning further around Sam to look at me. Not gonna lie, he kinda scared me. Standing, I moved to grab the things I'd escaped the room with earlier, and headed for the door, turning back to beckon Sam a good night, I caught sight of them staring at eachother like they were having a silent argument, and just darted out the door, instead of saying anything. Maybe we'd meet again one day.

The air was cold, and it had gotten very dark in the time that I was hidden away in the room with Sam. I walked briskly back to my own room, opened the door with my key, and hesitantly poked my head in, not wanting to wake my sister if she'd fallen asleep.

"So there  you are, (nickname), out getting some dick, were you?"

Ugh.

[bijvoorbeeldja]

HERE SHE IS

The full enemies-to-lovers, “You’ve Got Mail” Sobbe AU, sprinkled with a few little surprises ***

I was NOT playin around when I said I was going to write ALL the fics during this quarantine y’all ain’t ready

Hope you enjoy! <3 I’d love to know what you think (even if you hate it)

……

Robbe’s phone buzzed on his nightstand.

earthlingoddity: good morning

He smiled into the screen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

sterkerdanijzer: already awake?

earthlingoddity: yep

earthlingoddity: had some early morning inspiration

sterkerdanijzer: r u gonna let me see what you drew this time?

earthlingoddity: nope

earthlingoddity: against the rules

Robbe sighed, shaking his head.

Rolling out of bed, he contemplated what to type in response. This back-and-forth had been going on for months now, always coming back to this: the rules.

Clearly, they could text all they wanted. But that was it: just text. No voices, no photos showing their faces, locations, or anything else personal. Like drawings, for example. Nothing personal.

But really, everything they had been doing, all they had been talking about, felt personal to Robbe.

Screw the rules, Robbe thought. Even just through texts, he’d gotten closer to this person than anyone else in his life. Their conversations often started at dawn and spread throughout the day, lingering into the night until one of them fell asleep.

Of course, he’d agreed to the rules at the beginning. Hell, he’d made them. It was just talking, nothing else. But the more they talked, the more he wanted.

….

In a weird turn of events, Robbe had met Earthling in the comments of an Antwerp street art Tumblr, where teenagers flocked to share and comment on their latest masterpieces. Masked by alias handles, no one involved in the group knew the identities of the others. When they met up to tag at a location, everyone wore masks, hoodies, and dark clothes. Then they rehashed their work online, sharing photos and comments before planning their next meetup.

Robbe, using his disguised handle, had commented on a photo, when a stranger named earthlingoddity had commented back. Robbe had laughed and responded. The two passed banter back and forth before finally moving to DMs.

earthlingoddity: so you’re an artist, then the stranger had written him.

sterkerdanijzer: no, definitely not

sterkerdanijzer: I’m just in it for the vandalism

earthlingoddity: Hahahaha fair enough

earthlingoddity: u live in antwerp tho right?

sterkerdanijzer: pretty sure we’re not supposed to share details, STRANGER

earthlingoddity: ;-)

earthlingoddity: youre right. but i mean, we are talking now. and we’ve probably already seen each other

sterkerdanijzer: yeah maybe

earthlingoddity: I probably would have recognized a vandal tho…

sterkerdanijzer: not a chance. you’re probably one of those uppity art hoes who makes his masterpiece and doesn’t even acknowledge the little people

earthlingoddity: so you’re short then

sterkerdanijzer: enough! no personal details

Earthlingoddity: ok, so no names, no locations, no personal details. Any other rules?

sterkerdanijzer: uhm

sterkerdanijzer: no phone calls. And NO pics of your artwork. I might recognize it 

Earthlingoddity: so definitely no dick pics, then

Robbe had nearly choked at this. Even though their chatting had started as nearly nothing, it had rapidly become...something.  At least for Robbe. The past few weeks, their conversations had grown from occasional back-and-forths to constant communication, nearly-endless banter, and then...not-so-subtle flirting. Whatever was going on with this stranger, Robbe couldn’t bear to lose it. 

…..

Once he was finally ready for school that day, Robbe grabbed his skateboard and headed out to the street. Before mounting his board on the sidewalk, he opened his last chat with Earthling, trying to muster the courage to send him the message he’d been wanting to for days.

sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

Robbe’s fingers hovered over the keys, trying to gather the courage to hit send. It was stupid, he knew, but he was so terrified of scaring this stranger away. For reasons he didn’t fully understand yet, he needed him. Assuming it was, in fact, a him. I guess it was bold of him to assume Earthling was a boy. And gay. He took a breath and kicked off, starting to roll down the street. 

Then, out of nowhere, he was crashing, thrust back off his board and onto the ground as he collided with something. Or better, someone. 

Ugh, he groaned. Slowly rising up, he grabbed his phone and bag, which had been expelled violently from the impact. 

“What the hell, Robin?” the boy said, picking himself back up off the sidewalk where he’d fallen. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! Do you even know how to ride that thing?”

Brushing the dirt off his hands, he looked up, already feeling stiff aches form in his joints from the fall. Looking up, he groaned again.

Of course, it was Sander Driesen. He should have known immediately. No one else had the nerve to call him Robin.

Robbe rolled his eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t be meandering in the middle of the sidewalk,” he threw back. “Pick a side and stay out of the way of people who actually need to get somewhere.”

Sander scoffed, dusting himself off and grabbing his bag, rearranging the now-disorderly contents inside. “Right, I forgot. You’ll be late for class,” he said, the words dripping with disdain. “Ahh, to be young and only concerned with high school drama.” 

Oh, how Robbe hated Sander Driesen. 

Clad head-to-toe in black, with a noisy leather jacket, combat boots and a shock of (badly) bleached-blonde hair, he was a walking cliche. 

The two had grown up together, coexisting side by side in school and social circles. But the two could not be more different. Because of this, their relationship didn’t amount to much more than swapped insults in passing, tense confrontations, and merciless teasing. Now that Sander had graduated high school, their interactions were fewer. But for Robbe, that was still too often. 

“So tell me, O Wise One,” Robbe  shot back. “If you’re so above all of us children, why are you still dating Britt? She’s not too ‘high school drama’ for you?”

Sander grimaced. “I’m not with Britt,” he said, almost clenching his teeth.

“Right, whatever,” Robbe said, ready for this encounter to be way past over. “I don’t give a damn about your personal life. In fact, I don’t give a damn about anything involving you. I have to go.”

He turned to leave, realizing he skateboard was still on the ground, rolled out of his reach, an end tucked under the heel of Sander’s boot. He smirked at Robbe. 

“Oh, right. Your toy.” Sander rolled it back to Robbe, staring him down with an obnoxious smile. “See you around...Robin.”

Robbe grabbed his board and walked off in a huff, flipping Sander off as he passed. “Screw you, Sander.”

Rounding the corner, he stopped to steady his breathing. Why must his day be tainted with the influence of that fake blonde, edgy wannabe pyscho? Inhaling deep and taking advantage of his high tide of emotions, he pulled out his phone again, returning to his chat with Earthling. Do it, he told himself. Do it before you lose your nerve. Typing fast, he wrote:

Sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

He hit Send, waiting breathlessly.

Within seconds, three dots appeared. Earthling was typing.

……

The music was blaring, thumping against Robbe’s heartbeat. The crowd at the party was so thick that he was pressed up against Jens and Aaron, their combined heat making him slightly nauseous. 

But all he could focus on was the neon glow of the screen in front of him, and in his mind running over and over the words Earthling had texted him hours earlier: Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea.

Robbe had stared at it again and again, feeling that same nosedive in his stomach as he had when he first got it that morning on the street. He didn’t want to meet Robbe. So all of it had been...nothing after all. Deep down he’d known that. It was just talking. But it still felt like rejection. How could he so intensely have misread their connection? Even virtually, Robbe had felt the magnitude of it. Or so he’d thought. 

All of this considered, he hadn’t been a very good wingman for his friends tonight. They’d dragged him to this party at Noor’s, scanning the room intently, looking for girls to pursue. Robbe just stood by, slumped and sipping lukewarm beer that just made his stomach turn.

Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea he read again. Ugh. He was going to be torturing himself all night.

“Dude,” Jens elbowed him suddenly, or maybe just shifted, their proximity making it impossible to tell. “Dude, ten o’clock. That guy is totally checking you out.”

Robbe scoffed, not even bothering to look up. Gay guys at this party? He doubted it. 

“Seriously, Robbe,” Jens pushed again. “He’s definitely staring. And he’s actually pretty hot.” 

“Yep, totally,” Aaron agreed, nodding as he took a swig of his beer. “Definitely your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” Robbe sighed, finally tucking his phone back in his pocket and looking up. Shifting his gaze to his left, he looked in the direction the boys had indicated, trying to find a pair of eyes seeking his.

Whoa. Okay, so he was pretty hot.

Tall with messy brown hair, a boy with blue eyes was meeting his gaze. When the corners of the boy’s lips lifted in a smile, Robbe blushed, looking down. Now he looked desperate. Super.

“Go get another beer,” Jens said, shoving him forward. “See if he follows you. And act cool!”

“What? I—” Robbe protested, but the two were now pushing him together, forcing a parting of the crowd in front of them. 

Robbe swallowed, palms starting to sweat. He wove slowly through groups and couples dancing, making his way to the kitchen. Inside he sought out more drinks among the counter full of bottles and cups. It only took a few moments before he heard it.

“Hey,” the voice behind him said, deep and raspy. 

Robbe turned slowly, trying to swallow the dryness from his throat. The tall boy stood behind him, his beer dangling from two fingers. He leaned down to Robbe, putting his mouth close to his ear. 

“I’m Nathan,” he leaned back again to look Robbe in the eyes. 

“Uhm,” Robbe stammered. “I’m Rob-Robbe.”

“Hi, Robbe,” Nathan said, smiling. “Do you dance?” He took a step forward, dangerously close.

“Not if I can help it,” Robbe laughed nervously. The boy laughed too, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth and dimples. Robbe wiped a hand across his mouth, worried he was drooling now.

“Maybe another drink, then?” the boy asked. Robbe just nodded.

Nathan smiled and reached around to the counter, searching through the bottles. When he finally found an unopened one, he popped off the top easily, making Robbe’s stomach flip. So hot.  

Nathan handed it to Robbe, smiling. As Robbe took it, their fingertips brushed together. Robbe looked down, blushing. Then, again, the boy’s face was leaning down. They were cheek to cheek. 

“Want to get out of here?” he whispered, sending a wave of goosebumps down Robbe’s arm and spine. With a small nod, Nathan grabbed Robbe’s hand, leading him through the crowd.

…..

Outside, the air was much cooler, and Robbe felt like he could breathe again. The music blared from the door of the apartment building onto the street, but now it was just a dull throb instead of a deafening pulse.

Deep inhales of the outside air made his head feel lighter, his thoughts clearer...that is, until Nathan would brush his arm. Then he felt fuzzy again. With one arm leaning against the brick of the building, the other was casually touching Robbe’s every few minutes and Robbe could feel his knees going weak.

They had been talking for almost forty-five minutes and Robbe forgot how nice it was to talk intimately with someone he could actually be face to face with. Why had he even been bothering with Earthling? Clearly, that was going nowhere. Nathan, on the other hand, had potential. He was interesting, asking Robbe about his life and sharing details about his own. They talked easily, their touches getting progressively more frequent. Then, Nathan went silent, his gaze flicking down to Robbe’s lips. Robbe’s stomach was fluttering, licking his lips in anticipation. Nathan was leaning in, the hand against the brick sliding down to Robbe’s waist….

“Well, well well,” a loud voice behind him announced, breaking violently through their moment, causing the two to pull apart quickly. “If it isn’t my pal, Robin!” 

Sander Driesen, in dark jeans and a white t-shirt, appeared next to Robbe, followed by Britt in tow. He looked from Robbe to Nathan, smiling widely. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Robbe muttered under his breath. Nathan looked confused, glancing from Robbe to the bleached-blonde boy.

“Robin?” he asked, biting his lip in bewilderment.

“Ignore him,” Robbe said, grabbing his shoulder. “C’mon.” 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Robin?” Sander replied, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows at Robbe. 

Robbe groaned. “Seriously, Sander,” he said, “Not now.”

“Oh, c’mon, buddy,” he gave Robbe’s shoulder a soft punch. “Introduce me to your friend,” the last work thick with implication.

Robbe rolled his eyes as Sander stuck a hand out to Nathan, who took it with a polite smile.

“I’m Sander,” the boy said. “Robbe and I….well, let’s just say we have a looooong history.”

Robbe glared at Sander. “We’re going now.”

As he was leading Nathan back down the street, Sander called out again, louder.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt the moment, love birds,” he said, smirking. “Carry on!” With a chuckle, Sander threw an arm around Britt’s waist and walked into the apartment.

A few feet down the sidewalk Nathan turned to Robbe. “Who was that?

“Nobody,” Robbe answered quickly, trying to turn the conversation anywhere but on Sander. 

“It didn’t seem like nobody,” Nathan said quietly, rubbing a hand through his hair.  “Is he...an old boyfriend, or something?”

“What?!” Robbe near-shouted, stopping to look right at Nathan. “No. No. Not even close. He drives me crazy.”

Nathan bit his lip. “Look, Robbe. I should probably get going.”

“What?” Robbe said, his face dropping. “Because of him? You can’t be serious—”

“I was probably moving too quickly,” Nathan said slowly. “I’m sorry.” He gave Robbe a quick kiss on the cheek and walked away, turning the corner out of view. 

…..

Robbe didn’t care who was spilling drinks or getting their feet stepped on. Plowing through the crowd with his elbows, he found his way into the party and back to Jens and Aaron, who were in the middle of telling a story to two girls bearing plastic cups and bored expressions.

“Uhm, hey guys?” Robbe said, tapping Jens on the shoulder. “I’m going to take off.” Jens turned, quickly motioning a be right back to the girls, who nodded vaguely. 

“Wait, what happened with the guy?’ Jens asked eagerly. “Are you going to his place?”

Robbe frowned. “No. It didn’t exactly...work out.”

“Sorry, man,” Aaron said, slapping Robbe’s shoulder. “Want us to come with?”

Robbe shook his head. “Nah, you guys stay. I’m going to call it a night anyway.”

Finishing his goodbyes, Robbe ditched his bottle and stepped back out in the night air, now considerably cooler. Finding his bike, he started unlocking the lock when a voice behind him again shook him out of his thoughts.

“Headed home already?” Sander. Again.

Robbe whipped around on him, finding him alone this time. 

“Seriously, Sander? Can you please just leave me alone?” Robbe said, almost whining now. “You already managed to ruin this night for me once.”

This sobered Sander a little, who swallowed and took a step forward.

“Robbe, I—”

“No, I mean it, Sander. Go back to Britt, who’s apparently not your ‘girlfriend,’” Robbe did air quotes, making Sander clench his teeth again, “and leave me the hell alone.”

There was silence for a moment before Sander spoke.

“I’m sorry, Robbe.”  

Robbe shook his head and turned back to his bike lock.

“I was doing you a favor, okay?” Sander spoke, his voice insistent. “That guy seemed like a real douche.” Robbe scoffed. Seriously? 

“I mean, did you see his hair?” Sander continued. “Total poser.”

Robbe laughed to himself. “Yeah, like you’re one to talk,” he mumbled back at Sander.

Sander smiled at this. “Touche.” 

Robbe had his bike unlocked now and he started to wheel it down the street. 

“See you around, Robbe.” Sander called out.

“Yeah, don’t count on it,” Robbe replied.

As he mounted his bike, his phone vibrated. A message.

Earthlingoddity: You know what, forget what I said. Screw the rules. Let’s meet. When? Where?

………

Robbe didn’t respond to Earthling’s message for several days. When he did, he wanted to come off cool, casual. He drafted and redrafted the same message in a hundred different ways. Finally, he sent back:

Sterkerdanijzer: Yeah, okay. I guess we can. I can do Friday at 18h. Drinks at Jardim Antwerpen?

He got a reply almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: Absolutely. I’ll be there. Without a mask ;-) 

So there he was, sitting at a table watching the sun go down, turning a near-empty glass in his hands over and over again in his hands. Even with the condensation from the glass, Robbe’s palms were clammy. He was so nervous he had to occasionally reach down to calm his shaking legs. 

Milan had helped him pick out an outfit, a white linen button up and jeans. Zoe had mussed his hair until she insisted it was “perfect.” But he just felt ridiculous. Why was he even doing this? If he’d learned anything from the past few weeks, it was that he knew nothing. And he was probably going to be single forever. And for all he knew, Earthling would turn out to be a serial killer. 

At 18h15, Robbe started to get antsy. He messaged the boy:

Sterkerdanijzer: I’m here. White shirt, brown hair. U close?

But he got no response. He bit his lip anxiously, checking his phone constantly. At 18h45, after he had downed one more drink than he should have, he got up. Leaving a tip on the table, he shoved his phone in his pocket and headed to leave. This was a ridiculous idea, he scolded himself. So stupid. Of course he wouldn’t show.

As he neared the exit, he saw a flash of white in his peripheral. Turning, he saw a boy sitting at a table alone, phone in his hand. Sander.

As if he’d spoken his name out loud, Sander looked up, green eyes glowing. He smirked. “Small world,” he called out to Robbe. “What are you doing here?”

Robbe glared at him. “None of your business. What are you doing here?”

Sander just looked at him for a minute. “I’m, uh...waiting for Britt. She’s supposed to be here soon. Were you waiting for a date?” His knowing smile made Robbe’s insides twist. 

“Right,” Robbe said, nodding. “Well, I’m going to…” he turned again to leave.

“Uhm, actually, Robbe?” he called out. Robbe turned back slightly. What was he going to say now?

“Do you think I could borrow your phone to text Britt? Mine is dead.”

Robbe hesitated. Gone from Sander’s tone was any hint of teasing. He sounded genuine. He sounded desperate, almost. 

“Yeah, fine,” Robbe seceded, walking over to Sander’s table and handing over his phone. 

“Thanks,” Sander said, giving Robbe a small smile as he met his gaze. 

Robbe stood there as Sander typed, concentrating hard on the screen. Waiting, he glanced around again. No sign of anybody new. No sign of anybody looking for him. He was so stupid. 

“So, were you supposed to meet Nathan here?” Sander asked, not looking up as he continued to type.

“Why do you care?” Robbe asked.

Sander looked up. “I’m just making conversation. I hope it wasn’t him, though. You could do better.”

Robbe scoffed. “Okay, thanks for the tip, Sander.” He turned away again. ‘Cause Sander cared SO much about him. Right.

Then Sander stood, downing the rest of his drink. “Look like she’s not coming.” But as he handed Robbe back his phone, he didn’t look sad. He was smiling. Walking toward the exit, he turned back toward Robbe. 

“You coming?” Sander asked.

“What, me?” Robbe asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah you, Robin,” Sander laughed. “Let’s go.” Walking away again, Robbe stood there, mouth open. 

“Come!” Sander’s voice reached Robbe again. He was probably too drunk to think straight because next thing he knew, he was following Sander’s silhouette into the sunset. 

…..

“Sander, you cannot be serious,” Robbe stood obstinately away from the door, shaking his head at the boy, who was jiggling with the lock on a door, labeled boldly with a “No Trespassing” sign. “I assumed your plans were more drinks, not jail.”

Sander kept his hands on the door handle, but turned to face Robbe, a teasing grin on his face.

“Would you chill? We’re not getting arrested. I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes me feel better,” Robbe retorted. 

Sander just laughed and continued jiggling until click. The door squeaked open. He turned and raised his eyebrows at Robbe. “Come.”

Robbe shook his head again. He could not believe this. Not only was Sander trying to ruin his social life, he was trying to get him arrested. But Sander had disappeared behind the door, and finally, reluctantly, Robbe followed behind him.

Illuminating the stairs inside with the light on his phone, Sander led Robbe to the top, where he held his hands out in a ta-da! motion, so clearly pleased with this reveal. 

Reaching the top and taking in the scene, Robbe’s jaw dropped. A large, open-air pool laid out before him, neon blue water rippling with the cold wind.

“No,” Robbe started, his voice escalating. “Sander, no. We are not—”

But Sander was starting to shrug out of his jacket, then reaching down to undo the laces of his boots. 

“C’mon,” he whisper-yelled. “We’re doing this!”

“You’re insane!” Robbe yelled. “There’s no way I’m getting in that pool. We will die!”

Sander laughed as he lifted his shirt over his head. “We will not die, Robbe. Just come!”  

Robbe just stood there in disbelief as Sander kept shedding clothes, not stopping at his briefs. In a blink of an eye, he was completely naked and running towards the pool, jumping in with a yelp.

Robbe’s jaw dropped. Sander was actually insane. And was his skin always that golden? And did he have abs?

Emerging from the water with a screech, Sander called out again. 

“Robbe, come! It’s amazing in here!”

“No,” Robbe said defiantly. “No way.”

“You’re missing out, Robin,” he called out to him in a sing-song voice.

Robbe shook his head. “It’s freezing cold!”

“Yeah, it’s freezing cold,” Sander said. “But you have to do it. Get in! Now!”

Treading water, the light from the pool making his blonde hair glow neon, Sander waited for him, smiling.

Before he could think, Robbe started unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the concrete. Stepping out of his jeans, he watched Sander’s eyes roam across his bare chest. He swallowed hard.

Down to his underwear, Robbe started toward the pool, berating himself for giving into the demands of a pretentious — but weirdly captivating — boy. 

Okay, that was clearly the alcohol talking, he thought, shaking the idea from his head. 

“Hey, hey!” Sander yelled, stopping Robbe in his tracks. “All the way or no way.”

Robbe balked at him. Was he serious? He exhaled, biting his lip. Reaching down, he stripped off his underwear, now completely bare in front of Sander Driesen. He was going to regret this. But for now, he jumped into the pool.

He had been right. It was freezing. Easily the coldest water he’d ever felt. When his head exited the water, he yelped. 

“Oh. My. God.” he squealed, teeth chattering. “I am going to kill you, Sander!” He splashed around violently, trying to keep his limbs from going numb. 

“Dude, can you even swim?” Sander yelled, laughing.

Robbe splashed water Sander’s way. “Are you kidding? I can swim better than you any day!”

“Was that a challenge?” Sander quipped, circling around Robbe. 

“Well, yeah, I think it was!” Robbe answered. “You scared Driesen?” 

Sander smiled at him. “You’re on, Robin! First one to that opposite side of the pool wins! On three!”

“One….” Robbe started.

“Two….” Sander echoed.

“Three!” They yelled in unison, taking off for the pool’s edge. 

Robbe stroked, gasping deeply as he tried to find his stride. He was not going to let Sander beat him, no matter how drunk he was.

But when he reached the ledge, cheering in victory, he couldn’t see Sander. He wiped the water from his eyes, and looked beneath the water for Sander. He couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Sander?” He called out. “I totally kicked your ass!”

Still, nothing. Now, Robbe was starting to panic.

“Sander?!” His yelled, desperation creeping into his voice. He was about to call out again when Sander popped out of the water directly in front of him, so close, stealing Robbe’s breath and pinning him against the ledge.

“Sander, what the hell? What are you—” Robbe started, but before he could finish, Sander grasped the ledge behind Robbe, covering his body with his. Robbe felt Sander’s chest rise and fall against his as he tried to catch his breath.

“You won, Robin,” Sander spoke deeply. 

Then, he was kissing Robbe, keeping one hand on the ledge, the other sliding down to Robbe’s waist, holding him in place. Sander’s hand was firm, making Robbe melt beneath him. Robbe reached back a hand to hold himself to the ledge and the other found the nape of Sander’s neck. Using his fingers, he pulled Sander towards him, then let those fingers tangle themselves in Sander’s hair. Feeling his pull, Sander kissed Robbe deeper, grasping at any part of Robbe’s mouth he could find, sliding down to his jaw and his neck, sucking the skin there. Whining, Robbe’s eyes rolled back. Sander found lips again, tugging on them gently. Robbe licked the soft skin of Sander’s lips and heard a gentle moan escape the boy’s throat. It was happening so fast. Their limbs and breath were tangling, mixing together in explosive energy that made them both weak. 

He was kissing Sander Driesen. He was kissing Sander Driesen. When these words came together and made sense in his mind, he startled, shoving Sander off of him. 

“What are we doing?” Robbe spoke, trying to catch his breath. “What are we doing?! This isn’t….we’re, we’re drunk!” His voice was rising, filling with disbelief and exasperation.

“Robbe, I—” Sander said, water dripping off his golden skin, tempting Robbe more than he wanted to admit. He approached Robbe again slowly. 

“No, no,” Robbe said, reaching for the ledge and hefting himself out of the water. “This was a huge mistake. I’m drunk. We’re drunk. We shouldn’t have—”

“Robbe, wait!” Sander called, swimming towards the ledge and following Robbe out.

Robbe ran and gathered his clothes. “I have to go, Sander. Let me go.” 

Sander stopped, a look of confusion and hurt painting his face. “Robbe, don’t….”

Robbe spun on him, his voice rising. “Don’t follow me, Sander. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this. Swear it.”  

Sander just looked at him, lifting up his hands in submission. “I’m sorry, I swear I won’t—”     

Then Robbe ran down the stairs, struggling to pull his clothes on over his soaking-wet body as he left Sander behind him.

……

Robbe had hoped that when he woke up, the whole night would have been a dream. A ridiculous dream that would have made him blush...and probably need to take a cold shower. But still, a dream. A dream he could forget about. But the pile of wet clothes on the floor and phone full of messages from Sander proved otherwise. He groaned, aching from the memory and the hangover. 

His phone vibrated again and exasperated, he turned to silence it when he saw it — a message not from Sander, but from Earthling. 

Earthlingoddity: Hey….I know that there is probably nothing I can say to you right now that will make up for what I did last night. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I promise. Something just...came up and I couldn’t make it. I promise it wasn’t you, okay. Please, please forgive me? 

Robbe just stared at the message. As he did, another message from Sander came. 

Sander: Robbe, please answer me. I’m sorry about last night. Can we please talk, face-to-face?

Robbe rubbed his face. What was he going to say to either of these people? Why was everything such a mess?

Kissing Sander last night...that had been the biggest shock to his system. Sander hated him. He hated Sander. That was their relationship. But in an ice-cold pool they’d entered some alternate universe and crossed a line. They were drunk. That was it. Right?

Robbe went back to the message from Earthling. Typing slowly, he sent:

Sterkerdanijzer: you were right. We should have never agreed to meet.

He got a response back almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: No! No, it wasn’t a mistake. We should meet. I promise, something just came up that I couldn’t say no to. I want to meet you so bad. Please, can you give me another chance? I’ll do anything.

Robbe closed the message. Not now.

Taking another deep breath, he opened Sander’s message. 

Robbe: Fine, we can talk. Come to my house in an hour.

Sander: I’ll be there. 

……

After Robbe had showered and straightened up his room, he took a deep breath. He had no idea how he was going to survive this interaction with Sander, after all that had happened between them. They’d kissed. ALOT. They’d been naked, for heaven’s sake. Robbe groaned, flopping back down on his bed. What was happening to him? The world was turning upside down.

With that, there was a knock on the door. He could hear Jens shuffling to get it, but he raced to the door, sliding past Jens. 

“I got it, I got it.” 

Jens just looked at him, yawning. “What the hell?”

“It’s...it’s uhm...for me. I’ll get it.”

Jens stared blankly. “You’re being weird.” But he just went off towards the kitchen, yawning again.

Taking a breath, Robbe opened the door. 

Sander stood there, his hair also wet, clearly brushed into submission. He had on a cream-colored sweater, which shocked Robbe. He looked good. 

“Robbe. Hey.” He smiled, taking a deep breath.

Robbe just stood there, unsure of what to say.

Sander smiled again. “Soooo….can I come in or….?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, come in.” Robbe opened the door wider so Sander could enter. 

Glancing towards the kitchen, where Jens was making coffee, glasses clinking, he motioned to the hallway. 

“Let’s go to my room and talk,” Robbe spoke quietly.

“Sure, yeah,” Sander nodded. “Lead the way.”

Robbe walked hesitantly toward his room, opening the door for Sander. He entered, looking around. 

“Nice place,” he commented, looking at Robbe with a wink. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Robbe smiled, feeling flushed all of the sudden.

Sander went and sat on the edge of the bed. Robbe followed.

Sander cleared his throat. “So, I know what happened last night surprised you. I know it surprised me.” He smiled to himself. “I just wanted to say that….I’m not sorry.”

“What?” Robbe looked up at him, confused.

Sander was firm, sure. “I said, I’m not sorry. For what happened. For kissing you.”

“You’re….not sorry….” Robbe repeated slowly, trying to understand.

“I wanted to kiss you and I did. And I don’t regret it. I know we were drunk, but I think you wanted to kiss me, too.”

Robbe felt heat rise to his cheeks. He spoke quietly. “Sander…it doesn’t make sense. We don’t make sense. At all. We are at each other’s throats constantly.”

“So what?” Sander asked, laughing. “Maybe what we thought was hate was just passion.”

“Passion?” Robbe choked. “Passion? We can’t stand each other! We drive each other completely crazy!”

“Well,” Sander began, biting his lip. “That, I guess, is true. You do drive me crazy. But not for the reasons you think.”

What? 

“Sander, what are you—” but Robbe stopped as Sander turned towards him, sliding a hand to cup his jaw. 

“You do drive me completely insane, Robbe,” he said gently. “But in a way I want to feel all the time. That kiss was….” he put his hands together over his head, imitating a mind-blown gesture, “pppppffffffeeeewww.”

Robbe’s lips were curling up in a smile he couldn’t hide. He felt warm. But something nagged at him.

“Sander, I can’t do this,” he admitted quickly, before he could stop himself. “I know this sounds silly and stupid, but….there’s someone else.”

Sander sat back. “Who, Nathan?”

Robbe shook his head. “No, not Nathan. You ruined that one, remember?” He slugged Sander’s arm.

“No, it’s….” Robbe put his head down, embarrassed. “It’s someone I don’t even actually know.” He covered his face in his hands. “I know, it’s so stupid. But I think I really care about this person.”

To Robbe’s surprise, Sander didn’t laugh. Or come up with some stupid insult. Or even seem surprised by his revelation at all. 

“Okay,” he began. “So, who is he? Where did you meet him?” 

“Well,” Robbe said, blushing again. “We met online. On a stupid street art blog. We talk through DMs all day, everyday. Yesterday, when we ran into each other, I was waiting for him. We were supposed to meet each other for the first time in person. But….he stood me up.”

“Hmmm,” Sander sounded. “Sounds like a real asshole.”

Robbe laughed. “He’s not, though! Sure, I was devastated that he ditched me...and then, we kissed...and, everything is just a mess.” He fell back on the bed again, hands over his face.

Sander was silent for a minute. “So did he apologize? For last night?”

Robbe sat up slightly. “Well, yeah. He messaged me again saying he was sorry, and that it wasn’t me.”

“So?” Sander asked, probing for more. 

“So what?” Robbe asked.

“So, what are you going to say? Are you going to forgive him?” Sander asked.

“Well...I don’t know,” Robbe admitted. “I want to. You’re going to insult me mercilessly for the rest of time for saying this, but...I think Earthling is my soulmate.”

Sander grinned. “I’m sorry, who?”

Robbe laughed, embarrassed again. 

“Earthlingoddity, it’s his handle. I just call him Earthling.”

Sander looked down at his lap, biting his lip to hide a grin.

“I knew you would make fun of me!” Robbe shoved Sander. “I knew it!”

“No!” Sander held his hands up innocently. “I’m not making fun of you! I think it’s cute. I mean, it’s a Bowie reference, he’s obviously got good taste.”

Robbe smiled. “Yeah, he does,” he said.

“So,” Sander continued. “If you think this guy is your soulmate, I think you should talk to him. Give him another chance.”

“What should I say?” Robbe asked. “Do I ask him to meet up again?”

Sander thought for a minute. “I think you need to give him an ultimatum. His last chance.”

“An ultimatum?” Robbe asked.

“Yep.” Sander said, scooting to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Take out your phone.”

“What, now?” Robbe asked incredulously. 

“Yes, now!” Sander said firmly. “C’mon. Get your phone.”

Robbe shook his head. Of course, his rival, the guy he’d made out with last night, was now helping him attempt to snag a man. He officially understood nothing.

Taking out his phone, he pulled up Earthling’s message. 

“So what do I say?” He looked at Sander.

“Just say….” Sander began, looking off in thought. “You hurt me yesterday. This is your one chance to make it up to me. Meet me tonight or we’re done with this. No more talking, no more messages. This is it. Your last chance” Damn. Looking at Sander once more, he typed it out. Taking a deep breath, he hit Send.

“Oh no, oh no, I sent it. What now. What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m desperate?” Robbe rattled off, starting to hyperventilate.

Then, Sander’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out. 

“Sorry, hold on a sec,” he said. “I gotta respond to this.”

“Sander!” Robbe whined. “Focus! I need you! If he responds, you have to help me!”

“Don’t worry. Robin,” Sander said with a smirk. “He will. And I will.”

Sander typed quickly, then put his phone back down on the bed. He was hiding another smirk.

Robbe glared at him. “Sander! Are you texting Britt right now? Should I remind you that we’re focusing on me right now? Or should I remind you that you kissed me last night? What is wrong with you?!”

Sander shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t texting Britt, Robbe, calm down.” 

But Robbe ignored this as his phone buzzed again.

“Oh my god, okay, it’s him,” he cleared his throat. “This is what he said.” 

Now, Sander was laughing. Loudly. 

“Sander!” Robbe whined again.

Sander tried to stifle a laugh with his palm. “Okay,” he tried to turn the laugh into a cough. “Right, I’m focused. Well, what did he say?”

Robbe swiped and opened the message.

“He said...I choose you, Robin. Always, one hundred percent, forever.”

Robbe’s phone fell in his lap as he looked up at Sander. 

“Sander…..what kind of joke are you—”

Sander just shook his head and grinned. “Don’t call me, Sander. From now on, you have to call me Earthling.”   

Then, Sander was crawling over to Robbe, pushing him back down on the bed.

Hovering over him, he spoke gently. 

“When I saw you with Nathan at the party last week, I got jealous. You looked so hot and I knew I was starting to want you. It scared me. I knew you hated me. But I did. I wanted you. Trust me, Britt and I aren’t together. I just wanted to make you jealous. And that obviously backfired,” he said, laughing.

He continued to Robbe’s breathless stare. “Then I found out it was you I had been messaging when I borrowed your phone at the bar yesterday,” he said. “I saw the messages I’d sent you as Earthling. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe Robin was the boy I’d been talking to. The boy I’d been falling in love with, online and in real life. I was going to tell you right there, but you were so mad at me and so cute and I couldn’t resist trying to see if I could get you to fall in love with me, too. As Sander. And after that kiss, I knew what we had was real. Whether over text or in a freezing cold pool, it was real.”

Robbe blinked in disbelief. Was he really hearing this? It wasn’t some colossal joke Sander was playing on him? 

“Sander….” he said carefully. “Is that true? Is that really—” but before he could finish, Sander was kissing him again, winding a hand into his hair, immersing him completely, deeply into him.

It was true. 

.....

So, telling their friends about their relationship had been interesting. 

First, Jen had walked in on them, sloshing coffee all over himself when he saw Sander pulling off Robbe’s shirt. That had been a hard one to explain.

But the weirdest part was that no one had really seemed surprised. Sure, Jens was taken back initially, but as they sat in the kitchen sharing coffee (after Robbe had reclaimed his shirt and gotten dressed), Robbe sitting on Sander’s lap, Jens had smiled at them like a proud dad. 

You’re like yin and yang, he’d said. Somehow you two just fit.

And they did. In so many ways. Their minds, their souls, their bodies...

They just fit. 

[midwestmess94]

Queer Mental Health: A June Discussion

It is Day 2 of PRIDE month. Major corporations have already changed their logos to the rainbow flag, the circuit gays are out on the beaches in their speedos, posting thirst traps on Instagram, the Ru Girls are teasing their wigs and stoning their body suits for the plethora of gigs they have coming up, PRIDE celebration planning is underway if the event has not already happened. It is the gayest time of the year. 

I feel that, while we are drinking our vodka sprites with a splash of cran (and PBR ((yes, I am a gay who drinks cheap beer. Who gonna check me boo?))), we need to talk about queer mental health. 

I feel that this is a topic we shyly talk about. After years of being viewed as outcasts and weirdos, I feel that we sometimes get scared to talk about the thoughts in our head. We’ve been told being ourselves was such a problem that the stigmatism behind mental health bogs us down. We don’t really talk about going to see therapists, or crying for reasons we don’t understand, or the on-going battle of what our bodies look like.  

Every morning I wake up at 2am to go to work. I work until 12:30 p.m. Then, I come  home and sit on my couch and just aimlessly watch Netflix until I have to repeat the process. I do that Friday-Tuesday. On Wednesdays and Thursdays, I just sit around my house and watch more tv. 

I love my job. I’ve had amazing opportunities in my career and I’m thankful for the great people I’ve met, who’ve helped me. I’ve truly grown from those experiences. 

I hate leaving work. It’s the most socialization that I get outside of my house. I sit and battle my anxiety and depression at home by myself. Because of my weird schedule, I don’t get to see people much. My friends try to come out but they work normal hours so they can’t really do anything on my days off. On Wednesdays, I go to the local gay bar and play bingo by myself. It’s quite sad but I made friends with the bartender, who has had to save me from a couple rough days. 

---- PRO TIP: Never have your bartender drive you home. You then will live with a bunch of regret of making a pseudo-stranger see you in your worst----

Everyday, I wake up before dawn and get in the shower. My first thought when I wake up is “what will I fuck up today?” Then, I think about what I have to do for the day. Through that, I debate going to the gym after work and I usually let my inner saboteur win the argument. I always convince myself: what is the point? I never have the motivation to stick with it. It would just be a waste of time and all I want to do is lay on the couch.  At some point in the day, my anxiety kicks in. It is usually around the time I check my bank account. This is where my anxiety convinces me that I am a fuck up.  Then, I look up the number to my therapist because I feel like that might help. Well, my anxiety, who I’ve named Chad, tells me that it won’t help because it never does. I just feel like I want to escape my anxiety and that it will go away. Unfortunately, it never does. You can’t escape your brain and your feelings.  Then, I realize I’m spiraling. I think about texting my friends about my issues but I haven’t known them that long since I’ve known them for under a year. I can’t really talk to them about my issues because it’s also robbing them of their time. It’s not fair to constantly seek help when you are probably just dealing with the same repetitive shit. I get afraid that I’ll just scare them away because of the issues I’ve dealt with since I was 16. My anxiety drives me to feel like I’m just a thorn in everyone’s side. It’s bad to the point that I repetitively apologize to everyone for basically existing.  There are days where I just lay in bed and scroll through social media, wishing I was someone else because I let myself believe I can’t change to be the person I want to be. I look in the mirror and really hate the social decisions I’ve been making in the last year. I’ve been getting super anxious about the things I’ve said to people when I’m drunk. I get anxious about DMing people I’ve met because I think they’ll think I have feelings for them when in reality I just want to be sociable.  My depression comes in waves on top of this. I constantly think about how I’ve made awful financial decisions in my early 20s and now I’m paying for it in my late 20s. I’m living with family at the age of 27 and I didn’t plan on that for myself.  I see what people are doing on social media. I know people never post their worst but it makes me feel like I’m doing my absolute worst. It’s not fair of me to do that to myself but also I’d like to formally introduce everyone to Chad, my anxiety and Darryl, my depression. 

I then think that my friends, the very few I have in Florida, think that I’m just too much and only deal with me because we end up in the same social situations. Want to know why? Because I’m everything that would annoy me as a person. I wish I wasn’t but I am. I know it is that whole conversation of working on yourself but this is happening to me right now. Not the end goal of working on yourself. Stop fucking telling people they need to work on themselves. Someone going through something probably knows that but this is happening in the now. Dismissing their shit and saying it’ll be better down the road is the fucking worst thing ever. 

Then, I’m gay on top of all of this.  Being gay is great but unconventionally hard. People want to tokenize you. They want to put you in a box and say you should be this and not that. I have gotten, specifically from my fraternity brothers in college, “you are cool but just like tone it down dude.” The first time I heard that was in reference to me posting a picture kissing a boy’s cheek on Instagram. Some of my fraternity brothers didn’t think it would look good for the chapter’s image. But, they publicly cheat on their girlfriends and do whatever they want.  Oh, lets talk about how they’d ask me to wing man them with my girlfriends so they could get laid.  Or, my favorite, is when women say I should act a certain way. My close girlfriends are not like this. One of them says “yes queen” but that’s about it. She has never tokenized me and she’s let me be whatever version of myself I am that day.  But straight women love to say we should love shopping. If we’re femme presenting or there is an ounce of feminity in our presence, then we get asked if we like mani-pedis or assume we have style. Not all of us do. I don’t even identify with a feminine or masculine identity. I didn’t know I needed a label to be myself. 

Then there are the boxes gay guys put other gays in.  First thing is first, if you are slightly overweight, not fit and not stylish... You can go fuck yourself.  Gay dating is like having a Ruth Chris budget but you can only afford the McDonald’s $3 McDouble Meal. Every gay man, thanks to porn and the American media’s take on what gay men look like, thinks they need to date the hottest guy in the room. The minute that they realize that guy will never go for them, well that is cataclysmic. You may call that once in a blue moon but I call that a Saturday night at a gay bar. 

Then, there is the judgment in how you dress, who you hang out with, what you do and what you drink (I am the only person at my local gay bar that drinks PBR and the amount of comments about calories and bloating I’ve received is way too much).  It’s rough. 

I know this was a long journey and most of you probably didn’t read all of this but I wrote this to get things off my mind. This is what I deal with every day of the year. I never know what my mood of the day will be when I wake up. Will I win my battle against my anxiety and depression or will I lose it and let it run everything? I feel no matter what we look like, what do we do or who we hang out with, this is something every queer person deals with. I think we need to have more of an open conversation about it amongst ourselves. I think there is some comfort there. We all present and hold face in different ways. If you ever saw me in person, you could tell how I am doing by how I present myself. I never really hide anything. It’s dumb. Just be yourself. 

I know I wrote this for me but I hope it starts a conversation amongst the queer community. I hope it helps someone reach out to seek help or I hope you just related.  Anyways, thats it. 

[rock-speaks]

OKAY OKAY RANDOM HEADCANON TIME!!!

Louie

- autistic with ADHD overlap

- Inattentive

- the longest he’s slept for was 25 hours

- Deep as hell sleeper takes him at least and hour or two to come to full control

- Has 0 filter will literally say whatever comes to his mind regardless of how mean it may be or how crazy it might sound

- Talks to himself a crazy amount

- Louie has a banging TikTok where he just flexes and makes fun of Scrooge

- Louie has a huge social media presence in general he keeps it on the down low nobody knows about it and Louie would like to keep it that way

- Louie is a picky eater but eats all the time constantly snacking if the pantry is empty it was probably Louies doing

- He probably watches shitty movies and claims it’s too make fun of them but he really just likes them

- Probably really good at impressions his favorite person too make fun of is Huey

- Definitely needs therapy

- Secretly a big sap for romance those cliche movies where lovers embrace in the rain? Louies weakness

- Him and Lena are definitely super close not as close as Lena is too Webby but they’re still besties

- Prank king

- Sometimes just too “see what will happen” he tells people fake facts they almost always believe him (except for Huey) because why would they not? He has no idea why he does this but he hasn’t shown any signs of stopping

- Whenever he’s alone with Scrooge he says oddly cryptic and strange things no body knows why, sometimes not even Louie

- I imagine all the nephews have really curly hair Louies the only one who doesn’t straighten his hair

- Excellent judge of character

- Wise ass

Huey

- autistic!!!

- Will bring up the fact that he’s the oldest sibling in conversations that have nothing to do with it

- He’s probably a big saver and is definitely a person who has a penny collection

- Big collector!!! I swear he probably uses one of Scrooge’s unused rooms too keep foliage and rocks that he found

- He’s definitely got great posture

- Huey will randomly bring up a random memory if it somehow resurfaces to his mind no one knows how he remembers half this stuff and sometimes he brings up stuff they’d wish he’d forgotten

- Has definitely never said anything he didn’t mean

- Never says “I promise” if he knows he can’t do it

- Huey really just wants to be good at everything he tries so when he isn’t he just kinda gives up on it

- So obviously Huey isn’t a “practice makes perfect” kind of kid he’s more the “if it’s not right the first time scrap it and never try again”

- Huey probably holds himself to such a high standard and puts so much stress on himself to always be perfect

- Loyalty to the fuckin end

- Him and Lena get into “fights” all the time Lena is constantly trying to fuck with Huey and he’s just not here for it (yet another reason why her and Louie make such an insufferable team)

- Bad at video games

- Definitely takes the most after Donald in the sense that he’s so fucking rage full and I mean full Donald rage like fists flying in the air shouting with a red face type angry

- Needs fucking therapy and definitely has anxiety

- Has a bad sense of humor and laughs at everything part of the reason Dewey and Louie think they’re so funny

- Only has his one iPad and really only uses it for planning and other nerd stuff

- All fruits are Hueys favorite fruits but his favorites are blue berries

- Has a celebrity crush on Gizmoduck

Dewey

- This was pretty much confirmed murder on killmotor hill but he’s bisexual

- Long Huey shows up in his nightmares

- Always the first to start a pillow fight

- Has abandonment issues needs therapy

- Secretly listens to punk music and only Donald knows and he couldn’t be more proud (I wrote this before Louies eleven came out!! Lmao canon!!!)

- Loves to draw even though he probably sucks at it

- Dewey is totally the kid that will literally do anything for validation jump off the roof too seem cool? He’d do it in a heart beat

- Pretends not too care but he totally does

- Dewey is ADHD personalized never stops moving never stops talking something is seriously wrong when he’s quiet

- This is technically canon but he’s so petty

- Dewey is the type of guy who would NEVER ask for directions no matter how lost

- Speaking of he was probably the triplet to get lost the most

- Dewey loves robots like loves loves LOVES robots his dream is to learn to code and learn mechanics and build one him and Huey and him used to do those little “build your own robot kits” when they were younger

- Dewey has like 50 different dream jobs

- Launchpad has turned him into a hardcore darkwing duck fan

- THEATER KID

- Sort of forces himself to be an extrovert

Webby

- Webby loves to draw

- Has definitely cosplayed

- Knows about Louies secret social media accounts but he doesn’t need to know that

- You’re trying to keep something from Webby? What a joke

- Webby knows pretty much every ancient language

- Webby doesn’t know what a joke is and takes everything literally

- Definitely writes fan fictions

- Autistic

- Stims with her whole body excited jumping and screaming constantly

- Probably orally fixated out everything in her mouth

- Sometimes forgets things she literally just did or said often she asks “wait what did I just say?”

- Favorite movie? Men in black for sure

- Has always secretly wanted to be in a play

- If Scrooge says anything nice to her she thinks about it weeks after even if it’s something as small as “thank you”

- Feels really bad for glomgold and just really wants him to be happy

- Webby is cuddle central doesn’t matter when or where or who

- It kind of bothers her that Lena seems to always take Louies side

- HATES CONFRONTATION will console a friend in a heart beat but never NEVER EVER wants to fight

- Bad with social cues due to her ASD luckily she has the triplets and Lena and Violet to help her out in bad situations

- If no one stops her will talk about one thing for hours Lena always lets her

- Probably knows how to play like a shit ton of instruments

- Really likes cooking but she sucks at it Scrooge ate her cooking once to make her happy but promptly through it up when she left

- Was definitely a lego kid

Lena

- If any elderly woman tries to touch her she flips due to magicas abuse good thing she’s got two gay dads now

- Loves Violet so much and thanks her every night before bed

- After extensive therapy that was suggested by Violet had the rest of her friends she’s able to look at her own shadow again even if sometimes it really freaks her out

- Lena is a lesbian 100% open about it

- Wishes she were a vampire and definitely reads those dumb vampire/werewolf stories

- Really likes that she’s taller than all her friends uses that against her Huey fucking hates her for it

- Her favorite crime is arson

- Because she’s a rebellious teen her and officer M’ma have had a few run ins

- Shes probably never actually been to Paris but rather said that to impress Webby

- Lenas the type of emo to cover her face in every picture of her

- Has always cut her hair herself and when her friends talk about wanting to cut their hair she does it for them trying to convince them to let her dye it the whole time

- Lenas is responsible for most of the graffiti in duckburg

- Loves Launchpad she thinks it’s really fun to tell him stuff that isn’t true and he’s cool when she tells him she was just joking

- Has always secretly wanted to be a florist

- Loves licorice

- Magica probably didn’t intend for her to have a personality or a life at all really so Lena definitely picked the name herself

- Magicas not really controlling her nightmares anymore but she’s still very much in them they’ve gotten better but they still happen every so often

- Sometimes if she’s sitting on the couch and someone’s sitting right in front of her she kicks them in the head not hard but enough to bother them

- Probably can’t read

- She probably doesn’t have an official birthday so she doesn’t really understand the celebration of one one day Webby the triplets and Violet surprised her with a birthday

Violet

- in my head Duckula and Von goosewing will always be her parents

- Violets favorite thing to research is definitely trees

- Weak ass immune system probably gets sick all the time

- Definitely dresses however see feels on her off days she throws people off when she shows up ripped jeans and leather jackets

- Her biggest pet peeve is when anyone does anything loud

- Violet has been teaching things that Lena wasn’t taught since she never got a traditional education

- Violet is still a hard core skeptic despite having a sister made of shadows and a father who is a vampire

- Her hair is always a frizzy mess so she chooses never to do anything with it and just keeps it in a bun

- Really doesn’t get any memes ever

- Violet is probably a very low key germaphobe

- Pokemon is her favorite game and she knows all the originals and is a pro at all the games

-Huey and her do that thing we’re neither of you are fighting but rather both talking loudly that makes people think “oh it’s getting pretty heated over there”

[jesusmick]

Sad Boy Hours in Mexico

I have always wondered about the deleted scene from s9e6 where Mickey meets a guy wearing a Gay Jesus shirt. Here is a little drabble I wrote to try to fill in some gaps and explain how Mickey decides to go back to Chicago and prison. Featuring Mandy bc I love her. (2000 words).

It is dark by the time he turns the key to his apartment, the faint click of the lock rattling the loose doorknob. He doesn't know why he even bothers to lock it. He has nothing worth stealing, the drugs and the cash both locked up safe in Alonzo's apartment across town. Even if he did have something of value stashed away in his shitty third floor apartment, nobody in the neighborhood would dare try to break in. The people here, his neighbors, they left him alone. Come to think of it, his coworkers did too. Maybe it was because getting in with the Sinola cartel had been his dad's idea. He had been working with them for over a year now selling overpriced party drugs to stupid American tourists, but the other dealers still called him "El Menor". The younger. The lesser. Even 2000 miles away in Cabo, Mickey was still living in his father's shadow.

He kicks the door shut and toes his shoes off, dropping his backpack by the door. He's exhausted. The fog curling around his mind begs him to collapse on the bare mattress in the corner of the room and sleep until he forgets. He has done too much remembering for one day.

Instead, he moves to the beat-up mini fridge in the other corner of the room. Besides the mattress, the mini fridge, and the broken dresser that had been in the room when he moved in, he is alone. The single bare light bulb hanging from a wire in the ceiling does little to make his home for the last 14 months feel lived in.

Opening a beer, Mickey steps out onto his balcony and folds himself into a plastic picnic chair he inherited from his neighbor when she moved out.

Elena. She had been nice, Mickey thinks. Young and terrified, she had reminded him of Mandy. They would occasionally sit out on their balconies together and smoke. She didn't speak English, and Mickey's Spanish was fairly limited, but they got on. She had moved out a few months ago after getting pregnant with her drug addict boyfriend. Mickey knew he was in jail now. He also knew that he was the one who had sold Hernesto the drugs he had been on when he robbed the liquor store down the block. Mickey suspects that Elena knew too, but she never mentioned anything. She never blamed him and when she moved out, she gave him a potted plant and the plastic chair.

The plant had died weeks ago. Mickey wonders if Elena had her baby.

Taking a sip of his beer, Mickey's mind wanders to Mandy. He knew she had left Chicago years ago. They didn't talk much, but last he checked she was in Los Angeles working as a cocktail waitress in a bar frequented by the same trust-fund babies who made up the majority of his clientele. In a way, he was jealous of her, but also incredibly proud. She had gotten out. Out of their father's clutches, out of their shitty neighborhood in the Southside, and out of her own way. She was making something of herself, all by herself, even if that something was watered down appletinis.  

Mickey, he could never be that person. He needed others too much, he thinks. He was too soft, too lost in his own head, too attached. Those first few weeks in Mexico had been some of the loneliest of his life. That was why he fell in with the Sinola cartel in the first place. Well, that and the fact that he was in the country illegally, making holding down a regular job impossible. His father had connections and he was desperate for a distraction. He wasn't stupid enough to call his group of dealers and distributors a family. He knew that they wouldn't think twice about killing him if he did something he shouldn't. But Mickey wasn't stupid, and so far, coasting along in this new life had made things easier. He had a job, a purpose, and a small shitty apartment to come home to at night. It was enough.

Until it wasn't. Until today.

He thinks that maybe he was a little bit numb. That being on his own for so long had turned his head to business and buried his anger, his sadness, his fear under a thick layer of dust and cheap Mexican beer.

Suddenly, he realizes that he is crying. He doesn't know when it started, maybe since he sat down on the porch, but if the dotted teardrops soaking into his shirt are any indication, he has been silently crying for a while now.

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and pulls out his phone. He doesn't know why he does it. But he finds himself scrolling through his contacts and pressing call before he can think twice.

She picks up on the 4th ring. Mickey thinks maybe he would have preferred it if it had gone to voicemail.

"Mickey?" She sounds like she is somewhere crowded, Mickey can hear car horns softly in the background and the sound of high heels clicking on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Mandy." His voice is softer than he intended.

"Hey." There is a long pause before she continues and Mickey thinks that maybe this was a mistake. "I thought you were in Mexico."

"I am. How's LA?" God, this is awkward. Fuck, he and Mandy had never been good with words, even at the best of times. Now, after not speaking in years? What was he thinking?

"It's good, I'm good. I'm on my way to work actually."

"Oh, right. Do you want me to call you back? Sorry, I should have texted first."

"No, no, its fine. I still have a bit of a walk. What's going on?"

And that's it, isn't it? Nothing is going on, at least nothing that should have any affect on Mickey's life. But here he is, sitting on his shitty porch, drinking his third beer, and trying to keep his voice from betraying the fact that he's been crying.

It's just not fair. It's not fair that he should be out there, moved on to some new chapter of his life. Some new partner. While Mickey is here, still somehow waiting for him.

"Mick, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here." He rubs his eyes again, pressing hard until he sees spots. He keeps them closed.

"You heard from Ian?"

It's out there now. The reason he called Mandy. The reason he was so distracted and irritable after seeing that college kid from Chicago wearing the "Gay Jesus" shirt. Alonzo had shoved him out of his apartment while they were counting the day's profits and told him to go fuck himself after his fourth nasty remark.  

"Yeah," Mandy answers, "I've heard from him."

"And?" Mickey asks, suddenly frustrated. He stares out across the balcony railing, streetlamps flickering and the warm glow from neighboring apartments illuminating the street below. They should be staring out at the street together.

"He called me a few day's ago. I guess you heard about the whole Gay Jesus thing. He stopped taking his meds, got in with the wrong people, blew up a van. His sentencing is on Friday."

"Jesus Christ." Mickey exclaims softly.

He's quiet then. He can hear the sound of a crosswalk through the phone and Mandy's heels on the pavement. He thinks she might have pressed the phone to her chest because he hears her greet someone softly and the background noise suddenly fades.

"I should go." Mickey says and he hates how his voice breaks. Hates that he let himself get this affected. Hates that he is here, alone, in his shitty apartment with his shitty job stranded in fucking Cabo of all places.

He is about to press end on his phone and go grab a fourth beer when Mandy's voice, suddenly clear, speaks again.

"He misses you, Mickey." And that is just too much.

"If he misses me so much," Mickey's voice wobbles dangerously, "why did he leave me in fucking Mexico?" And he is openly crying now. He knows Mandy can hear it. And he hates that too.

Mandy sighs. "He's fucked up Mickey. Just like we all are. But he does miss you. He's pissed at himself for going off his meds and embarrassed that he let it go so far, but I think if you called him, he would listen."

"But he wasn't off his meds last year. He was himself. Or maybe he wasn't, I don't fucking know. He kept saying that he had is life together. He said he had a boyfriend."

"Some fucking boyfriend he turned out to be." Mickey thinks he hears real anger in her voice then, and he reminds himself that Mandy cares about Ian too. That Ian's sentencing was probably just as hard for her to hear as it was for him.

"He didn't even notice that he was off his meds, Mick. He just let him spiral until it was too late to do anything about it. He didn't even go to his hearing."

Mickey could hear the sound of metal scraping in the background and he thinks maybe Mandy was opening her locker before her shift started.

"What should I do?" He knows he sounded desperate, lost, but he doesn't care. He is desperate and more than a little lost.

"You love him, and even though he may be shit at showing it, he loves you too. Figure it out, my shift is starting."

"Yeah," Mickey sighs, "Okay. Thanks, Mandy."

"Bye. Call me later if you want."

She hangs up and Mickey drops the phone to his lap.

This whole day was just too much. Mickey isn't sure what he had expected Mandy to say, but hearing that Ian had gone off his meds and blown up a van wasn't it. When he saw the kid's shirt, he assumed that Ian had taken a job as some sort of gay preacher or social media activist and was now living a cushy life with his boyfriend in one of the hipster neighborhoods up in Chicago. His boyfriend who was probably just as smart and attractive as Ian. Someone who appreciated craft beer, who wrote poetry, and drank soy milk. Not someone with a lengthy criminal record, a fucked up family, who didn't know how to love someone without driving them away.

Somehow, knowing that Ian's life was falling apart, that his boyfriend as a piece of shit, and that he was going to prison gave Mickey a sick sort of vindication. He would never have let things get that crazy. He would have noticed Ian's mood swings and erratic behavior. He would have taken care of him and set him straight before he could have hurt anyone. Before he could hurt himself.

But Mickey knows that isn't fair, and truthfully, he is more worried for Ian than anything else. He has no idea what mental state he is in or how long his sentence will last. And prison is no place for someone like Ian. He's too soft. Too caring. Too proud.

With a new resolve, he wipes his hands on his jeans and picks up his phone. He doesn't really know who to call about something like this, so he finds the phone number for the public defender's office.

The call is quick and to the point. He knows what he wants and he knows what he is going to risk.

He agrees to meet them at the border in Tijuana in two days.

In the morning he will have to get a bus, a nearly 24 hour drive up the coast. But now, for the first time in over a year, a calm settles over him.

The plastic picnic chair strains as he stands, scraping against the concrete of his balcony.

He's not scared of prison. Looking around his room, he realizes that he has been practically living in a prison cell since arriving in Cabo. He is scared of Ian, though. Scared that Mandy is wrong. That Ian doesn't love him and that he is giving up his freedom, his future, for a man who has left him heartbroken so many times before.

As he crawls into bed, arranging his limbs under a threadbare blanket, his mind jumps back to a lifetime ago.

What you and I have makes me free.

Mickey thinks that he was right, back then. There is no freedom for him without Ian Gallagher.

[queerbutstillhere]

12. We dated back in highschool then you moved away but now you're back in town.

(for @legitpumpkin an AU in which the Kent's and Wayne's live in the same neighborhood of whatever town you'd like to pick.)

"Hey, did you hear the news?"

Jon looked up, eyebrows knitted together, his tongue was poking out of his mouth from his hyper concentration.

"What?" He asked absently, looking away from his brother back to his laptop, returning to reading his article.

Kon said something about Tim and someone coming back.

"Cool," Jon responded in that same absent tone.

"Jon, you literally did not hear a word I just said did you?"

Jon just shook his head, quickly deleting and rewriting a section.

"Leave him alone, Kon, he has deadlines to meet," Chris inputted from where he was laying on the sofa beside Jon, at an awkward angle so his feet weren't on the younger man.

"Fine. Pardon me for trying to tell him that his former lover is back in town."

"What?" Jon asked, interest mildly peaked now.

"Damian's back home for the summer."

The rapid click-clacking of Jon's keys completely stopped, and he blinked at Kon.

"And Tim says he's thinking about moving back to the States completely."

"Oh-" Jon breathed out.

"You should go talk to him," Chris suggested, pushing at his knee.

"Yeah.... God it's been what, five, six years?"

"Six. Five, since you guys broke up."

Jon hummed, returning to clicking away at his computer.

"Are you still in love with him?" Chris asked, looking at his phone.

"I don't know? It's been five years, Chris, I haven't seen him except maybe in passing once or twice. We don't really talk except occasionally commenting on each other's social media posts."

"Who?"

They all looked up when Lois walked in.

"Damian. He's back home," Kon supplied.

"Oh! Yes. Bruce just invited us over for dinner, actually."

"He what?" All three boys exclaimed at once.

"Yup! At six, which means you three need to be showered and wearing nice clothes!"

"Oh yes, how dare we show up to our childhood best friends house in our jorts and tanktops."

"Kon, we all know Dick would absolutely destroy you for wearing jorts," Chris said with a snort. "I'll go take first shower since busy body over here is still working."

"Look! Once I get this article turned in, I'm officially on break, but this is a pretty big story so I need to make sure it's perfect before I send it to the editors," Jon defended himself to empty air, as Kon and Chris had both already left.

He sighed and returned to typing.

An hour later, everyone was clean and dressed and they all took the short walk down the block to the Wayne's house together. The Wayne residence was the largest, and loudest building in the neighborhood. There were always people coming and going, and always children around, despite the fact that none of Bruce's kids had their own families yet. They could hear yelling inside before they even got to the front door, and Jon smiled at the fond memories that hit him. Clark stepped up and knocked on the door, and within a minute, the door was yanked open by Dick Grayson.

"Hey guys!" He exclaimed with a bright grin, immediately hugging Clark, and then Lois, and then all three of the boys.

"Hello, Dick."

"Come on in! Dad and Alfie are just finishing dinner, I think the others got kicked into the living room at some point, they were being too noisy."

"Aren't they always?" Jon asked with a smile, his writers mind already crafting out how he would report on this evening.

"Hey, now, Jonno," Dick said with a laugh, having to reach up to ruffle Jon's hair. "Man I miss when you were only this tall."

He held a hand down by his waist, shaking his head at the 6"2" man and tsking.

"Anyway! Come on!"

"I'm gonna pop into the kitchen," Lois said, and disappeared. Clark hesitated before following.

The boys just followed Dick deeper into the house where yelling and barking was coming from the family room. They entered and discovered Cassandra and Jason wrestling on the floor. Tim and Damian sat on the furniture, and Ace running around barking in dismay.

"Guys!" Dick protested, crossing his arms.

Cass let go of Jason, who rolled to his feet, sticking his tongue out at her. She immediately blew a raspberry before flipping up.

"Kon!" Tim exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and running to hug his friend.

Jon however, had made eye contact with Damian. And hot. Damn. Jon met Damian when he was 10. He had seen Damian grow up, had personally witnessed the awkward teen years where Damian had been growing into his own body and face. Hell he had dated Damian through the tail end of it. He knew Damian was an attractive person - look at his parents, it was the only logical thing to happen - but he had some how gotten hotter???

Damian would be around twenty-six by now, he was tall, maybe not as tall as Jon, but he couldn't quite be certain from this distance. His face was angular and defined, not quite the sharp features of his father, but more delicate and feminine like Talia. Everything about him screamed neatness, from his trimmed eyebrows, and clean shaven face, to his carefully styled hair and clothing. His hair was a different style the Jon last remembered seeing, shaved short on the sides and longer in the back, styled in a quiff. He was wearing black jeans and a button down, and Jon could see a gold necklace hanging around his throat. His beautiful, full lips curled into a soft smile as he scanned over Jon, before lazily pushing up to his feet. Oh yeah, Jon was definitely still taller.

"Hello, Jonathan," he said with a sweet smile, walking over.

His legs were still long and lanky, and he still walked with an insane amount of grace, a habit he had picked up from when he used to do ballet.

"Hi," Jon breathed out, finding himself completely awestruck.

Damian walked right up to him, hugging him gently. Jon immediately hugged him back, noting that he smelled like vanilla and citrus, but not in a bad way.

"It's good to see you," Damian said softly. His accent had thickened significantly in the past few years, and damn that was hot too.

"Yeah, oh my God, it's been forever." Jon pulled back to look at Damian again, his hand lingering on his arm.

Damian smiled up at him, his green eyes flicking over Jon's face. "Five years, really. Not forever."

"Okay, no, but it is a long time. Where all have you been at?" Jon asked, letting Damian push him out of the room where their siblings were talking loudly.

"I've been all over. Finished my schooling in Switzerland, and then spent sometime traveling around Europe. Then I've been in the Middle East with mother for the past few years. I enjoyed the traveling, but I think I'm ready to be back home."

"Wow. You'll have to tell me all about it!" Jon said, eyes wide with amazement.

Damian chuckled, nodding. "I'm sure we'll have time. You're a journalist now, no?"

"Yeah! Just hit my one year mark with the company I work for right now," Jon said with a proud grin.

"That's good, do you enjoy it?"

"Oh yeah, it always keeps me on my toes. I very rarely get bored with it."

"Okay! Dinner is ready!"

Jon jolted with the suddenness of Bruce's yell. Damian chuckled, looking past Jon at Bruce who was waving them over.

Dinner was nice and loud and noisy and Jon was hit with this painful realization of "Holy Shit Maybe I Am Still In Love With Damian" and he desperately needed to tell his brothers this development, but he didn't know how to do it slyly. So he just sat there in gay turmoil for a whole hour of a dinner. Then, while the others were heading to the living room, Damian snagged his hand and pulled him to the front door, clipping a leash on Ace and then walking outside. Jon followed silently, curious what was going on.

"Do you remember when we used to just go on walks around the neighborhood?"

"I remember sneaking over to your house a couple times in the middle of the night just to go on those walks," Jon answered, watching Ace sniff a bush. "And I remember getting my ass whooped the week my mom found out."

"And yet you kept doing it all through highschool," Damian said with an amused glance towards him.

"What do you expect. I was young, dumb and in love."

Damian chuckled, glancing down the road before crossing it.

"So, fill me in on what you've been up too since I left for Switzerland."

"Oh. Nothing wild, finished college, got my major in journalism, and minor in psychology. Got my job the same month as graduation, moved out in August, and I've just kinda been focusing on work since."

Damian hummed. "You always have been a bit of a busybody."

"Hey!"

Damian just grinned and gently nudged Jon.

"So, shall I just ask the awkward question?"

"What awkward question."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh!" Jon felt his cheeks heat up and then he shrugged. "No, not right now. I dated a few guys in college, but not anyone for a while."

Damian hummed and nodded.

"Uh. What about you?"

"No. With all the traveling, and living in the Middle East..."

Jon nodded in understanding, pausing as Ace darted in front of him. Without thinking he took the leash from Damian and let Ace smell the along the other side of the sidewalk.

"So what are you going to be doing, now that you're back? Working for your dad?"

"No, probably not. I'm going to resume my modeling career, and I'll be working as a environmental ambassador, just little things like that."

"Oh, cool."

Damian hummed, putting his hands in his pockets. They crossed the street and started to head back home.

"So we're totally gonna start hanging out then, right?"

"Well of course, you're one of my best friends," Damian said with a smile.

"Even though I'm your ex?"

"Jon, dating you was some of the best years of my life."

"Oh," Jon said softly, feeling his face heat up.

Damian chuckled and shook his head, smiling at Jon fondly.

Oh yeah, Jon still had feelings for Damian.

Send me a prompt!

[iwanthermidnightz]

“Not a shot. Not a single chance. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Taylor Swift — who, at 30, has reached a Zen state of cheerful realism — laughs as she leans into a pillow she’s placed over her crossed legs inside her suite at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, leaning further still into her infinitesimal odds of winning a Golden Globe, which will zero out when she heads down to the televised ball in a few hours.

Never mind whether or not the tune she co-wrote, “Beautiful Ghosts,” might actually have been worthy of a trophy for best original song (or shortlisted for an Oscar, which it was not). Since the Globe nominations were revealed, voters could hardly have been immune to how quickly the film it’s a part of, “Cats,” in which she also co-stars, became a whipping boy for jokes about costly Hollywood miscalculations and creative disasters. Not that you’ll hear Swift utter a discouraging word about it all. “I’m happy to be here, happy to be nominated, and I had a really great time working on that weird-ass movie,” she declares. “I’m not gonna retroactively decide that it wasn’t the best experience. I never would have met Andrew Lloyd Webber or gotten to see how he works, and now he’s my buddy. I got to work with the sickest dancers and performers. No complaints.”

If this leads you to believe that the pop superstar is in the business of sugarcoating things, consider her other new movie — a vastly more significant documentary that presents Swift not just sans digital fur but without a whole lot of the varnish of the celebrity-industrial complex. The Netflix-produced “Taylor Swift: Miss Americana” has a prestige slot as the Jan. 23 opening night gala premiere of the Sundance Film Festival before it reaches the world as a day-and-date theatrical release and potential streaming monster on Jan. 31.

The doc spends much of its opening act juxtaposing the joys of creation with the aggravations of global stardom — the grist of many a pop doc, if rendered in especially intimate detail — before taking a more provocative turn in its last reel to focus more tightly on how and why Swift became a political animal. It’s the story of an earnest young woman with a self-described “good girl” fixation working through her last remaining fears of being shamed as she comes to embrace her claws, and her causes.

Given that the film portrays how gradually, and sometimes reluctantly, Swift came to place herself into service as a social commentator, “Miss Americana” is a portrait of the birth of an activist. Director Lana Wilson sets the movie up so that it pivots on a couple of big letdowns for its subject. The first comes early in the film, and early in the morning, when Swift’s publicist calls to update her on how many of the top three Grammy categories her 2017 album “Reputation” is nominated for: zilch. She’s clearly bummed about the record’s brushoff by the awards’ nominating committee, as just about anyone who’d previously won album of the year twice would be, and determinedly tells her rep that she’s just going to make a better record.

But she suffers what feels like a more meaningful blow toward the end of the film. In the fall of 2018, Swift finally comes out of the closet politically to intervene on behalf of Democrats in a midterm election in her home state of Tennessee. As the Washington Post put it, this announcement “fell like a hammer across the Trump-worshipping subforums of the far-right Internet, where people had convinced themselves… that the world-famous pop star was a secret MAGA fan.” Donald Trump goes on camera to smirk that he now likes Swift’s music a little less. The singer is successful in enlisting tens of thousands of young people to register to vote, but her senatorial candidate of choice, Democrat Phil Bredesen, loses to Republican Marsha Blackburn, whom she’d called out as a flagrant enemy of feminism and gay rights.

“Definitely, that was a bigger disappointment for me,” Swift says, pitting the midterm snub against the Grammy snub. “I think what’s going on out in the world is bigger than who gets a prize at the party.”

It was not always thus for Swift — as the detractors who dragged her for staying quiet during the last presidential election eagerly pointed out. If you had to pick the most embarrassing or regrettable moment in “Miss Americana,” it might be the TV clip from “The Late Show With David Letterman” in which the host brings up politics and gets Swift to essentially advocate the “Shut up and sing” mantra. As the studio audience roars approval of her vow to stay apolitical, Letterman gives her what now looks like history’s most dated fist bump.

Thinking back on it, Swift is incredulous. “Every time I didn’t speak up about politics as a young person, I was applauded for it,” she says. “It was wild. I said, ‘I’m a 22-year-old girl — people don’t want to hear what I have to say about politics.’ And people would just be like, ‘Yeahhhhh!’”

At that point, Swift was already starting to record isolated pop tracks, taking baby steps that would soon turn into full strides away from her initial genre. But whether she had designs on switching lanes or not, the lesson of the Dixie Chicks’ forced exile after Natalie Maines’ comment against then-President George W. Bush had branded itself onto her brain at an earlier age, when she’d just planted her young-teen flag in Nashville and overheard a lot of the lamentations of older Music Row songwriters about how the Chicks had thrown it all away.

“I saw how one comment ended such a powerful reign, and it terrified me,” says Swift. “These days, with social media, people can be so mad about something one day and then forget what they were mad about a couple weeks later. That’s fake outrage. But what happened to the Dixie Chicks was real outrage. I registered it — that you’re always one comment away from being done being able to make music.”

Maybe the most transfixing scene in “Miss Americana” is one where Swift argues with her father and other members of her team about the statement she’s about to release coming out against Blackburn and — it’s clear from her references to White House opposition to the Equality Act — Donald Trump too. The comments were so spontaneous that Wilson wasn’t there to film the moment, but the director had asked people to turn on the camera if anything interesting transpired, and here it most certainly did.

“For 12 years, we’ve not got involved in politics or religion,” an unnamed associate says to Swift, suggesting that going down the road of standing against a president as well as Republican gubernatorial and Senate candidates could have the effect of halving her audience on tour. Her father chimes in: “I’ve read the entire [statement] and … right now, I’m terrified. I’m the guy that went out and bought armored cars.”

“I needed to get to a point where I was ready, able and willing to call out bullshit rather than just smiling my way through it.” TAYLOR SWIFT

But Swift is adamant about pressing the button to send a nearly internet-breaking Instagram post, saying that Blackburn has voted against reauthorizing the Violence Against Women Act as well as LGBTQ-friendly bills: “I can’t see another commercial [with] her disguising these policies behind the words ‘Tennessee Christian values.’ I live in Tennessee. I am Christian. That’s not what we stand for.” Pushing back tears, she laments not having come out against Trump two years earlier, “but I can’t change that. … I need to be on the right side of history. … Dad, I need you to forgive me for doing it, because I’m doing it.”

Says Swift now, “This was a situation where, from a humanity perspective, and from what my moral compass was telling me I needed to do, I knew I was right, and I really didn’t care about repercussions.” She understands why she faced such heated opposition in the room: “My dad is terrified of threats against my safety and my life, and he has to see how many stalkers we deal with on a daily basis, and know that this is his kid. It’s where he comes from.”

Swift was recently announced as the recipient of a Vanguard Award from GLAAD, and she name-checked the org in her basher-bashing single “You Need to Calm Down,” which was released as one of the teaser tracks for last fall’s more outwardly directed and socially conscious “Lover” album. Part of her politicization, she says, is feeling it would be hypocritical to hang out with her gay friends while leaving them to their own devices politically. In the film, she says, “I think it is so frilly and spineless of me to stand onstage and go ‘Happy Pride Month, you guys,’ and then not say this, when someone’s literally coming for their neck.”

A year and a half later, she elaborates: “To celebrate but not advocate felt wrong for me. Using my voice to try to advocate was the only choice to make. Because I’ve talked about equality and sung about it in songs like ‘Welcome to New York,’ but we are at a point where human rights are being violated. When you’re saying that certain people can be kicked out of a restaurant because of who they love or how they identify, and these are actual policies that certain politicians vocally stand behind, and they disguise them as family values, that is sinister. So, so dark.”

Her increasing alignment with the LGBTQ community wasn’t the only thing raising her consciousness to a breaking — i.e., speaking — point. So did the sexual assault trial in which judgment was rendered that she had been groped by a DJ in a backstage photo op (for financial restitution, Swift had asked for $1).

Her experience with the trial was crucial, she says, in finding herself “needing to speak up about beliefs I’d always had, because it felt like an opportunity to shed light on what those trials are like. I experienced it as a person with extreme privilege, so I can only imagine what it’s like when you don’t have that. And I think one theme that ended up emerging in the film is what happens when you are not just a people pleaser but someone who’s always been respectful of authority figures, doing what you were supposed to do, being polite at all costs. I still think it’s important to be polite, but not at all costs,” she says. “Not when you’re being pushed beyond your limits, and not when people are walking all over you. I needed to get to a point where I was ready, able and willing to call out bulls— rather than just smiling my way through it.”

That came into play when Kanye West stepped into her life and publicly shamed her a second time. In the video Kim Kardashian released in 2016, you can hear the people-pleasing Swift on the other end of the line sheepishly thanking him for letting her know about the “Me and Taylor might still have sex” line he plans to include about her in a song — only to regret it later when the eventual track also includes the claim “Why? I made that bitch famous.” The boast, of course, referred back to the moment when he interrupted her and stole her spotlight at the MTV VMAs six years earlier as she was in the middle of an acceptance speech. West’s is not a name that ever publicly escapes Swift’s lips, so it might be surprising to fans that these events are recapped in “Miss Americana,” although Swift says the filmic decisions were all up to the director, who explains that Swift’s reaction to the episode was important to include.

“With the 2009 VMAs, it surprised me that when she talked about how the whole crowd was booing, she thought that they were booing her, and how devastating that was,” says Wilson. “That was something I hadn’t thought about or heard before, and made it much more relatable and understandable to anyone.”

“I see the movie as looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart.” LANA WILSON, DIRECTOR OF “TAYLOR SWIFT: MISS AMERICANA”

Swift acknowledges how formative both incidents have been in her life, for ill and good. “As a teenager who had only been in country music, attending my very first pop awards show,” she says now, “somebody stood up and sent me the message: ‘You are not respected here. You shouldn’t be here on this stage.’ That message was received, and it burrowed into my psyche more than anyone knew. … That can push you one of two ways: I could have just curled up and decided I’m never going to one of those events ever again, or it could make me work harder than anyone expects me to, and try things no one expected, and crave that respect — and hopefully one day get it.

“But then when that person who sparked all of those feelings comes back into your life, as he did in 2015, and I felt like I finally got that respect (from West), but then soon realized that for him it was about him creating some revisionist history where he was right all along, and it was correct, right and decent for him to get up and do that to a teenage girl…” She sighs. “I understand why Lana put it in.”

Adds the woman who started her recent “Lover” album with a West-allusive romp that’s pointedly called “I Forgot That You Existed”: “I don’t think too hard about this stuff now.”

What’s not in the film is any mention of her other most famous nemeses — Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta of Big Machine Records, with whom she’s scrapped publicly for several months. “The Big Machine stuff happened pretty late in our process,” says Wilson. “We weren’t that far from picture lock. But there’s also not much to say that isn’t publicly known. I feel like Taylor’s put the story out there in her own words already, and it’s been widely covered. I was interested in telling the story that hadn’t been told before, that would be surprising and emotionally powerful to audiences whether they were music industry people or not.”

Still, the way Swift has been willing to stand up politically for others parallels the manner in which she stood up for herself in regard to Braun, et al., at the recent Billboard Women in Music Awards, where she gave an altogether blistering speech, naming names and taking no prisoners, going after the men who now control her six-album Big Machine back catalog. Certainly Swift was aware that, along with supporters, there were many friends and business associates of Braun among the VIPs in the Hollywood Palladium who would not be pleased with what this very reformed people-pleaser had to say.

One thing everyone who was in the room agrees on is that you could hear a pin drop as Swift used the speech to get even bolder about the meat of these disputes. Some would say it’s because they were riveted by her boldness in speaking truth to power, others because they just felt uncomfortable. Says one fellow honoree who works in a high position in the industry (and who’s worked with some high-profile Braun clients): “People were excited for her at the beginning of the speech. But once she started going in a negative direction at an event that is supposed to be celebrating accomplishments and rah-rah for women, I felt it fell flat with a good portion of the room, because it wasn’t the appropriate place to be saying it.”

Wasn’t it intimidating for Swift, knowing she might be polarizing an auditorium full of the most powerful people in the business? “Well, I do sleep well at night knowing that I’m right,” she responds, “and knowing that in 10 years it will have been a good thing that I spoke about artists’ rights to their art, and that we bring up conversations like: Should record deals maybe be for a shorter term, or how are we really helping artists if we’re not giving them the first right of refusal to purchase their work if they want to?”

“Obviously, anytime you’re standing up against or for anything, you’re never going to receive unanimous praise. But that’s what forces you to be brave. And that’s what’s different about the way I live my life now.” (Braun’s camp did not respond to a request for comment.)

One thing Taylor Swift can’t bend to her determined will is her family’s health. She revealed a few years ago that her mother, Andrea, a beloved figure among the thousands of fans who’ve met her at road shows, is battling breast cancer. Swift addressed the uncertainty of that struggle in an anguished song on her latest album, “Soon You’ll Get Better.” Many who view “Miss Americana” will look for signs of how her mom is doing. The subject comes up in a section of the film that includes a relatively light-hearted scene in in which it’s shown that one of Andrea Swift’s ways of saying “eff you” to cancer recently was to break the mold and bring a canine — her “cancer dog” — into a famously feline-friendly family.

The real answer may come in Swift’s touring activity for “Lover.” Whereas typically she’d spend nine months in the year after an album release on the road, she plans to limit herself to four stadium dates in America this summer and a trip around the festival circuit in Europe. This may not be 100% for personal reasons: “I wanted to be able to perform in places that I hadn’t performed in as much, and to do things I hadn’t done before, like Glastonbury,” she says. “I feel like I haven’t done festivals, really, since early in my career — they’re fun and bring people together in a really cool way. But I also wanted to be able to work as much as I can handle right now, with everything that’s going on at home. And I wanted to figure out a way that I could do both those things.”

Is being able to be there for her mother the main concern? “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the reason,” she says. “I mean, we don’t know what is going to happen. We don’t know what treatment we’re going to choose. It just was the decision to make at the time, for right now, for what’s going on.”

In her case, it’s as if her manager had taken seriously ill as well as the person she’s always been closest to, all at once. “Everyone loves their mom; everyone’s got an important mom,” she allows. “But for me, she’s really the guiding force. Almost every decision I make, I talk to her about it first. So obviously it was a really big deal to ever speak about her illness.” During filming, when Andrea’s breast cancer had returned for a second time, “she was going through chemo, and that’s a hard enough thing for a person to go through.” Then it got harder. Speaking about this latest development publicly for the first time, Swift quietly reveals: “While she was going through treatment, they found a brain tumor. And the symptoms of what a person goes through when they have a brain tumor is nothing like what we’ve ever been through with her cancer before. So it’s just been a really hard time for us as a family.”

Compared with that, nearly any other topic the movie might address would pale. But it finds weightiness in addressing other kinds of unhealthiness, like the physical expectations that are placed on women in general and celebrity women specifically, Swift being no exception. In this department, she has her own heroines. “I love people like Jameela Jamil, because he way she speaks about body image, it’s almost like she speaks in a hook. Women are held to such a ridiculous standard of beauty, and we’re seeing so much on social media that makes us feel like we are less than, or we’re not what we should be, that you kind of need a mantra to repeat in your head when you start to have unhealthy thoughts. I swear the way Jameela speaks is like lyrics — it gets stuck in my head and it calms me down.”

Swift’s collaborator in this messaging, Wilson, was on a list of potential directors Netflix gave her when she expressed interest in possibly doing a documentary to follow the concert special that premiered on the service just over a year ago. You could discern a feminist message, if you chose to, in the fact that Swift chose a director most well known for a documentary about abortion providers, “After Tiller.” Swift says she was most impressed, though, that Wilson’s docs look for nuance and subtlety in addressing subjects that do lend themselves to soapboxes, and their first conversation was about their mutual desire to avoid “propaganda” in any form.

If there’s a feminist agenda in “Miss Americana,” Wilson and Swift wanted it to emerge naturally, although the director admits it was pretty blatant from the outset, given that she set up the film (which is co-produced by Morgan Neville, the director’s “sounding board”) with an all-female crew. Or nearly all-female, says Wilson, laughing, “I will say that we did always have male production assistants, because I like trying to show people that men can fetch coffee for women.”

Adds Wilson, “When I started filming, it was before she’d come out politically. She knew that she was coming out of a very dark period, and wanted collaborate on something that captured what she was going through and that was really raw and honest and emotionally intimate.” The political awakening, the director says, “was a profound decision for her to make. In that, I saw this feminist coming of age story that I personally connected with, and that I really think women and girls around the world will see themselves in.”

“The bigger your career gets, the more you struggle with the idea that a lot of people see you the same way they see an iPhone or a Starbucks.” TAYLOR SWIFT

The film borrows its title from a song on the “Lover” album, “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” that’s maybe the one fully allegorical song Swift has ever released — and, in its fashion, is a great protest song. The entire lyric is a metaphor for how Swift grew up as an unblinking patriot and has had to reluctantly leave behind her naiveté in the age of Trump. Her partner on that track, as well as other message songs like “You Need to Calm Down” and “The Man,” was a co-writer and co-producer new to her stable of collaborators this time around, Joel Little.

With the song “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” although the lyrics are cloaked in metaphor, “We like to think it was a very clear statement,” Little says. “There are lots of little hidden messages within that song that are all pointing toward the way that she thinks and feels about politics and the United States. I love that it uses a lot of classic Taylor Swift imagery, in terms of the songwriting topics of high school and cheerleaders, as a clever nod to what she’s done in the past, but tied in with a heavy political message.”

“Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince” doesn’t actually appear in the documentary, but the director says the film’s title is understood by fans as an obvious reference to political themes in the number. “Even if you don’t know the song,” Wilson says, “I see the movie as looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart, so I like how the title evokes that too.”

The doc doesn’t lack for its own protest songs though. In the wake of her midterm disappointment, Swift is seen writing an anthem for millennials who might have come away disillusioned with the political process. That previously unheard song, “Only the Young,” is seen being demo-ed before it plays in full over the end credits; it’ll be released as a digital single in conjunction with the doc. Key lyric: ““You did all that you could do / The game was rigged, the ref got tricked/ The wrong ones think they’re right / We were outnumbered — this time.”

“One thing I think is amazing about her,” says Wilson, “is that she goes to the studio and to songwriting as a place to process what she’s going through. I loved how, when she got the Grammy news (about “Reputation”), this isn’t someone who’s going to feel sorry for herself or say ‘That wasn’t right.’ She’s like, ‘Okay, I’m going to work even harder.’ You see her strength of character in that moment when she gets that news. And then with the election results, I loved how she channeled so many of her thoughts and feelings into ‘Only the Young.’ It was a great way to kind of show how stuff that happens in her life goes directly into the songs; you get to witness that in both cases.

So is the film aimed at satisfying the fan base or teasing the unconvinced hordes who might dial it up as a free stream? “I think it’s a little bit of both,” Swift says. “I chose Netflix because it’s a very vast, accessible medium to people who are just like, ‘Hey, what’s this? I’m bored.’ I love that, because I do so many things that cater specifically to fans that like my music, I think it’s important to put yourself out there to people who don’t care at all about you.”

In the wake of the last round of Kanye-gate, stung by the backlash of those who took his side, Swift took a three-year break from interviews. The mantra of her 2017 album “Reputation” and subsequent tour was “No explanations.” But her Beyoncé-style press blackout was a passing phase. With “Lover” and now, especially, the documentary, she could hardly be more about the explanations. Although this interview is the only one she currently plans to do about the documentary, it’s clear that she’s come back into a season of openness, and that she considers it her natural habitat.

“I really like the whole discussion around music. And during ‘Reputation,’ it never felt like it was ever going to be about music, no matter what I said or did,” she says. “I approach albums differently, in how I want to show them to the world or what I feel comfortable with at that time in my life.” Being more transparent “feels great with this album. I really feel like I could just keep making stuff — it’s that vibe right now. I don’t think I’ve ever written this much. That’s exhibited in ‘Lover’ having the most songs that I’ve ever had on an album” (18, to be exact). “But even after I made the album, I kept writing and going in the studio. That’s a new thing I’ve experienced this time around. That openness kind of feels like you finally got the lid off a jar you’ve been working at for years.”

Cipher-dom never could have stood for long for someone who’s established herself as one of the most accomplished confessional singer-songwriters in pop history. “I don’t really operate very well as an enigma,” she says. “It’s not fulfilling to me. It works really well in a lot of pop careers, but I think that it makes me feel completely unable to do what I had gotten in this to do, which is to communicate to people. I live for the feeling of standing on a stage and saying, ‘I feel this way,’ and the crowd responding with ‘We do too!’ And me being like, ‘Really?’ And they’re like, ‘Yes!’”

Swift believes talking things up again isn’t a form of giving in to narcissism — it’s a way of warding off commodification.

“The bigger your career gets, the more you struggle with the idea that a lot of people see you the same way they see an iPhone or a Starbucks,” she muses. “They’ve been inundated with your name in the media, and you become a brand. That’s inevitable for me, but I do think that it’s really necessary to feel like I can still communicate with people. And as a songwriter, it’s really important to still feel human and process things in a human way. The through line of all that is humanity, and reaching out and talking to people and having them see things that aren’t cute.

[justanultrastressedwriter]

Aw Hell No - Ch I

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TW: Homophobia (slurs), Violence, Swearing. Let me know if I should tag anything else

“Uh, DJ! Can’t you believe it?” the bouncy redhead squealed to her tall, curly-haired best friend with excitement.

“Can’t believe what? That you could somehow reach super supersonic levels this early in the morning?” the guy standing next to her muttered, frowning down at his best friend.

“Don’t be a dick, Daniel. Can’t you at least pretend to be excited? It’s the first day of our senior year! This is the home stretch, baby!” the short imp said, with an excited grin on her face.

“Charlotte Elizabeth Thomas. It's barely even 8 am, I’ve only had one cup coffee because you, for some ungodly reason, wanted to get to school ridiculously early, you have been shrieking in my ear for the last half hour, and I have the first period with the teacher who hates me the most because he’s the most bigoted person on the face of the Earth. What the hell do I have to be excited about?” Daniel James frowned at her, glaring. He was nowhere near being a morning person like his best friend was. Daniel could barely function before 9 am without numerous cups of coffee.

“Well, Mr. Grumpy Gills, for starters you have little old me. I’m taking the time out of my busy life to grace you with my perfect existence. My mere presence should make you ecstatic, you utter peasant.” she said cheekily, tilting her head to the side and raising her chin arrogantly. Daniel couldn’t help but crack a smile at her.

“Charlie, I have no fucking idea how I have managed to be your best friend. Your massive ego should be your best friend instead of me, you annoying little twerp.” Daniel teased.

“But, I’m your annoying little twerp and you can’t help but love me,” Charlie said with a reckless grin and a quirked eyebrow.

Daniel was about to respond with one of his famous witty one-liners when his thoughts were interrupted by a strong force against his back, shoving his face into the cool metal of the lockers he had been leaning on. He knew that at least one bruise would appear there the next day.

“Happy first day of school, faggot.” a voice hissed from behind him. He could hear the sneer and disdain in the person’s voice, which helped him recognize the voice. It made his muscles tense as he turned to face the biggest prick in the entire school.

Connor Smith; the popular jock that had been tormenting Daniel since they were in preschool. It had started back then with small childish antics: the breaking of crayons and toys, blaming Daniel for everything - which made all of their teachers peg him as a troublemaker and hate him, despite being one of the quietest and most polite kids in school - and a long list of other things that didn’t really matter in the long run.

Ever since Daniel had been forced out of the closet in their freshman year, though, Connor Smith and the entire school had gotten worse. Connor had inspired the football team on numerous occasions to jump Daniel in the school parking lot after school or to tie him to the goalposts naked, they all constantly shoved Daniel in the halls and into lockers, made him spill his lunch all over himself, broke into his locker to ruin his textbooks or his schoolwork and notes, but those were just things the sport teams did. The entire school would simply trip him or call him cute pet names, ‘useless queer’, ‘faggot’, or Daniel’s favorite ‘dirty little cocksucker’.

Of course, no one ever did anything about Daniel’s predicament. The best people would turn the other cheek to everything going on. Daniel’s mom had gone to the school boards countless times, even a few teachers had gone to the administrations on his behalf, but nothing happened. Either it was because “they were just boys being boys”, “that there wasn’t enough evidence”, or that Daniel brought this upon himself either by not sticking up for himself but Daniel knew what they really meant.

“Hey, Meathead! Leave him alone! He’s done nothing to you!” Charlie yelled, getting as fiery as her red hair and glaring up at the jock. Standing at 5’3”, Charlie yelling at Connor, who stood at a whopping 6' 3”, looked like David challenging Goliath. It could have been considered comical by an outside party.

Connor smirked as if he were amused, but then his favorite lackey spoke up, with a lustrous look. “You wanna dance, Red? I can make sure you have a great time. I can think of so many ways to make you scream.”

Charlie’s cheeks turned red at the implications and she began to struggle for words. Daniel felt a fire of anger ignite up within his chest. He knew exactly how uncomfortable his best friend was about anything sexual. She hadn’t even kissed anyone for fucks’ sake. So Daniel came to her rescue, standing up to his full height to look the jerk in the eyes and shield his best friend from the pair of Neanderthals. “Leave her alone, Tyler. She has nothing to do with this, you know that. Your problem is with me.”

Tyler Roberts. Daniel’s second-biggest tormentor and Connor’s best friend/lackey. He was also known for being the biggest man-whore around having slept his way through at least half of the town.

“Or what, fag?” Tyler said, his voice filled with scorn and disgust, making Daniel flinch at the word.

“Or we’ll take our problem to the cops, jackass,” Daniel said, glaring at the other boy. “You are eighteen, right? How does jail sound to you? And if not, oh well. I’ll just settle for getting you kicked off the football team. That will lead you to have a problem with the rest of the football team and Coach Jamison- aren’t y’all expected to go to the playoffs this year? I don’t think the team will make it without their starting lineman, huh? Not to mention all of the colleges that are willing to offer you sports scholarships. The rest of the world is pretty damn liberal these days, I don’t think they’ll take too kindly to you being charged with a hate crime against a poor innocent gay kid, now would they? But by all means, if you want to risk it all by beating me to a pulp - then bring it on, asshole. I’ve been through worse and I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Daniel raised his arms out to his sides in a challenge. He’d rather get his ass kicked a dozen times over than watch those goons touch his best friend again. He watched as the larger Neanderthal’s brain worked through the concept that actions do have consequences.

Apparently, Connor’s brain worked a lot quicker than his counterpart, because he clasped a hand onto Tyler’s shoulder as if to calm him.

“Danny-boy’s right, man. There’s too much at stake for us.” Connor turned back to Daniel with a glare, “We’re not finished here, faggot.”

As the two jocks walked away, Daniel and Charlie shared a look and a sigh of relief, “You okay, Char?”

“I should be asking you the same thing, sweetie. They barely even looked at me.” Charlie said, looking at her best friend with concern.

Daniel shrugged, rubbing his forehead. “I’m just so tired of this shit, Charlie. These giant jackasses thinking that I’m dirt just because I’m gay. It’s so fucking stupid. But, I mean, are they right? Am I less than they are because I’m a faggot?”

Standing at 5 foot ten, with curly black hair that was constantly hanging in his light grey eyes framed by the pair of round glasses that rested on his freckle covered nose, Daniel James was gay.

After coming out to his two best friends at the time Charlie and one of their former friends Grace, he was forced out of the closet. Grace had panicked after hearing the news and she told her parents who then told the entire town and because they lived in a small-ass town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere of the deep South. That made Daniel a social pariah.

Charlie pulled her best friend into a tight hug, “Oh, honey, no. You are not less than them. If anything, you’re so much more. You don’t have to put other people down to make yourself feel big. All of these ignorantly homophobic assholes are piles of shit compared to you.”

Daniel felt himself be slightly comforted by his friend’s words, but he couldn’t stop the negative thoughts and self-disgust running through his head. The bell for the first period rang, causing the two to pull apart. Daniel grimaced, knowing what that bell meant. For the next fifty minutes, he would be at the will and mercy of the most bigoted teacher on the small campus. “Wish me luck.”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve got P.E. with Coach Jamison, huh? Hell, yeah. I wish you all the luck in the world. You’re gonna need it.” Charlie said with a playful grin.

“Don’t remind me,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the boy’s locker room to change into the required gym uniform. Hopefully, if he got there early enough, Daniel could change in peace and hurry into the gym to get this torture over with.

Daniel found the locker to be empty and he quickly changed out of his flannel and T-shirt, then entered the gymnasium where Coach Jamison glared at him as if Daniel was a piece of dirt on his shoe. It made Daniel’s throat clench.

Daniel hung his head in shame and waited patiently for everyone else to show up in silence. Daniel only looked up after the door opened and he could feel someone’s eyes on him and what he saw made beads of sweat appear on his brow and his throat clench. It was Connor Smith, wearing a grin that sent chills down Daniel’s spine. He thought, ‘This class just somehow got even worse. Fuck me.’

[rollercoasterwrite]

Love Is So Nice.

One-shot written for Jjong’s Month .Here are the ones I wrote last year : Moon & Happy Birthday. And my other one for this year : Just For A Day. 

Au where Jonghyun is a pink-haired barista whose dream is to be a full-time illustrator. He is older than Jinki. Minho is his best friend. Jinki’s studying in business management at uni. Also, being gay is normal, no one cares. 

Plot : Jonghyun is 25 years old and has never been in a relationship. At this point, he has given up on the idea of having love in his life. Instead, he settles for having seven puppies one day. 

Pairing : Jongyu

Genre : Romance, fluff, slice of life 

Word count : 7.1 k ~

Love had always been a weird notion to Jonghyun. It had always been all around him in every shape or form, but it wasn’t something he believed in for himself. It’s not that he didn’t want it, but the stars just didn’t seem aligned to grant it to him.

He had always been weird, awkward, detached, but also too moody and sensitive to vibe with most people. He was a loner and despite despising that about himself, he didn’t know how to be anything else.

Social interactions were his bane and with the years he had just accepted that he couldn’t have the upper hand. He had tried to fake it until he made it, but he had just ended up feeling like he was putting on a show that didn’t have any substance.

He was 25 years old now and he was slowly starting to feel like maybe he could get accustomed to the idea of being with himself until his expiration date came about. Well, maybe he could get a few puppies to keep him company.

Yeah, that seemed like a good plan. He really didn’t need anybody to fill the social void that hollowed out his insides. He certainly didn’t need anyone to validate his existence, care for him, lov-

‘’ Hey, yo, Jjong! ‘’

The all too familiar voice got the pink-haired man out of his musings, making him scrunch up his nose in annoyance as the only human he could talk to for more than ten seconds came into his line of sight.  

The tall lively brunette gave him a wide smile as he stopped in front of the counter Jonghyun was behind.

‘’ What are you doing here? ‘’ Jonghyun coldly asked as he grabbed a cloth and mindlessly traced circles on the vinyl structure he had been leaning on.

‘’ Um… isn’t this a café? Like you know, a place where people can sit and enjoy a drink and food? ‘’ Minho reminded, a note of amusement lacing his tone.

‘’ Yes, this is a café. But that’s not your scene, ‘’ Jonghyun retorted. His hand stilled over the counter. ‘’ So again, what are you doing here? ‘’

‘’ Can’t I just come by to see my best friend? ‘’ Minho pointed out with pouty lips and a bat of his eyelashes.

Jonghyun’s brows furrowed over his eyes at the annoying sight and the use of the term best friend. He didn’t understand why Minho insisted to define him in that way when he had a shitload of friends.

‘’ No, you can’t, ‘’ Jonghyun deadpanned. ‘’ You actually have to buy something. ‘’

Minho shook his head as a quiet laugh cracked his previous act. ‘’ You really are heartless, Kim Jonghyun, ‘’ he settled as he looked him in the eye.

‘’ I am going to buy something, but I’m waiting for my study partner to arrive, ‘’ he then informed.

That information made the other react instantly. ‘’ Oh my god, not again. ‘’

‘’ I know what you’re thinking, Jjong, but this is for real for real, ‘’ Minho immediately reassured. ‘’ I’m not getting that economics class at all and I can’t afford to fail it if I want to stay on the soccer team, ‘’ he vouched in a way that almost convinced the older one of his honesty.

Almost.

Jonghyun had seen this scenario unfold over and over again. Minho would find someone he liked in one of his classes, whether it be a man or a woman, would get them to study with him, usually in his dorm room, before ending the session with a late-night encounter between the sheets.

That ploy worked 100% of the time and Jonghyun had no trouble understanding why. Minho was probably one of the most attractive people he had seen in his life and compared to him, he was at the opposite side of the spectrum of social ease. He could get anyone comfortable with his charm and dashing smile.

Despite Jonghyun never openly agreeing to the self-coined term Minho used to describe this ability, he did believe he had this flaming charisma. And to be completely honest, Jonghyun was jealous of it. Maybe Minho didn’t really experience love, but at least he was getting some.

‘’ But why here this time? ‘’ Jonghyun couldn’t help but ask.

His question was answered with a roll of the eyes. ‘’ Weren’t you listening? ‘’ Minho reproved. ‘’ I really need to focus this time, so I thought it might help to not have my bed only a few meters away. ‘’

Jonghyun still had his doubts about the whole situation, but he let them slide. His friend’s conquests weren’t any of his business anyways.

‘’ Fine, ‘’ Jonghyun acknowledged before giving a look around his workplace.

His expression twisted in pure disgust as his eyes caught the same couple he had glanced at an hour earlier. Their sappy displays of affection hadn’t relented, making his desire to kick them out even stronger.

Minho followed his gaze and laughed. ‘’ Jjong, you really need to put yourself out there instead of hating on every lovebird you see, ‘’ he pointed out.

Jonghyun gave him a death stare. ‘’ I wouldn’t hate on them if they weren’t being so gross in public. There are other places to do that, ‘’ he sharply argued.

The brunette’s shoulders shook with laughter again. Before Jonghyun could even realize, he brought a hand to his hair and ruffled it affectionately. ‘’ Lighten up, Jjongie. ‘’

The older one all but huffed before the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Before he could bring himself to greet the newly arrived customer, Minho straightened up and charged towards him.

‘’ Jinki! ‘’ Was the name he heard the latter say before he trapped the smaller one into a hug. Jonghyun almost snorted when he caught the discomfort on the other’s face. Minho had never really known boundaries; he always acted on impulse.

‘’ Come on, I want to introduce you to someone first, ‘’ Minho indicated as he gestured for the other to follow him.

Jonghyun felt himself panic, but that feeling was cut short by his friend’s never-ending forwardness.

‘’ Jinki, this is my best friend, Jonghyun, ‘’ Minho filled in with a prideful smile.

‘’ Nice to meet you, Jonghyun, ‘’ Jinki said with a quick bow of the head before he flashed a smile of his own.

Jonghyun’s heart flipped inside his chest at the sight of it. He had never seen a smile so bright, so warm.

If it weren’t for the sound of Minho clearing his throat, Jonghyun probably would’ve stayed stuck in his stance for an embarrassingly long time.

‘’ Nice to meet you too, Jinki, ‘’ Jonghyun echoed as the cogs of his mind began moving again.

They held each other’s gazes silently for a few more seconds before Jonghyun remembered what his purpose was. He quickly bent down behind the counter and sprung back up with two menus in hand.

‘’ Here you go, ‘’ he quickly said before he turned the other way to make sure everything was in its right place.

He naturally eavesdropped on their conversation as he moved this and that around and pretended to wash a few cups that didn’t really need washing. It might’ve been only five minutes before Minho called him again, but that short lapse of time was enough for him to figure out that this study session might not just end with his friend getting a better mark.

‘’ I’ll take an iced black coffee and a blueberry muffin, Jjongie, ‘’ Minho indicated before turning towards the other brunette.

‘’ Oh, and I’ll have a macchiato with an almond croissant, please, ‘’ Jinki said with another warm smile.

‘’ Yes, sure. You guys can settle at a table, it’ll be ready in a few, ‘’ Jonghyun quickly uttered as he tried to ignore the acrobatics that his heart was doing again.

He almost sighed in relief as they finally moved farther away from him. He got to working on their orders, trying to keep his mind blank. But he found it harder than expected when the sound of his friend’s familiar laughter brought along with it a warm and full laugh, one that almost made him overfill the cup he was holding.

He caught himself just in time, silently cursing himself for his lapse in focus. What the fuck is wrong with me? He mused as a scowl darkened his features. Without the inkling of an answer forming in his mind, he gathered himself to get all the items on a tray and turned around again.

He was grateful that his grip on the tray was tight, because when his eyes caught chocolate ones again, he felt weak in the knees.

                                                     ***

A few days passed and Jonghyun still held on solidly to his future plan of living with seven puppies (he had finally settled on a number). He had even started visualizing the house they would live in and was now thinking about the names he could give them. He had already decided on the first one and even knew what breed he wanted her to be. For whatever reason, she had to be a her and a dachshund.

The thought of it brought a small smile to his face as he poured some coffee in a to-go cup. The café was about to close and he couldn’t wait to settle comfortably on his bed to do some drawing. He had gotten behind on some commissions and needed to catch up.

Just as he was covering the carton cup with a plastic lid, the door opened, making him jump slightly. Before he could even think about being annoyed by the last-minute intrusion, an expression of surprise crossed his features as his eyes met the person who had just come in.

‘’ Good evening, Jonghyun, ‘’ Jinki timidly said as he hid his hands in his jeans’ pockets.

Jonghyun’s brows furrowed between his eyes in confusion. ‘’ Good evening… ‘’ he slowly replied.

‘’ I know it’s late and you were probably about to close, but I have to stay up to catch up on my studying, so if it’s okay, I’d really love to have a coffee to go. ‘’

The other’s fast-paced explanation took a few seconds to register in Jonghyun’s mind. When it did, he slowly nodded.

‘’ Can you just flip the sign outside for me so no one else comes in? ‘’

His request was heeded on the spot and soon he found himself looking into those rich brown eyes again.

‘’ So what would you like? ‘’ he instantly asked, already thinking of the relief he’d feel when he’d find himself alone again.

If it were any other customer, it wouldn’t have been such bother, but this was his friend’s… study partner, if there was any truth in what Minho had told him. Plus, he hadn’t forgotten about how unsettled he had felt when he had first met him.

‘’ Just a plain dark roast coffee, ‘’ Jinki naturally replied, his fingers tapping lightly on the countertop.

‘’ Okay, ‘’ Jonghyun acknowledged. ‘’ It won’t be long, ‘’ he indicated before giving his usual courtesy smile.

He got the machine going again and let it do its magic before turning around to pull out another carton cup and plastic lid. He felt overly conscious of his every move like it was usually the case when another human being was near him, but for some reason, it felt even worse now. He kept facing the other way until the coffee was ready.

A few seconds later, he was presenting the brunette with a freshly brewed coffee to go. ‘’ Here you go. Have a nice evening, ‘’ he quickly uttered.

His heart jumped inside his chest when the other’s fingers brushed against his to grab the cup. Jonghyun’s eyes widened at the feeling, making him turn around immediately.

‘’ Thank you, Jonghyun, ‘’ Jinki expressed in a soft tone.

Jonghyun didn’t say anything else, too afraid to embarrass himself even more.

He finally heard footsteps heading the other way and when the door finally closed on itself again, he released a long sigh.

He didn’t know what was going on, but he really hoped this was the end of it.

                                                      ***

A few days passed without any other disturbing encounters and Jonghyun was more than happy about it. He had figured out the perfect life for himself and didn’t need anything or anyone to start messing with that in any shape or form.

Jonghyun knew himself. His heart barely needed a spark to create a full-blown fire. The last time that had happened, extinguishing the flames had been almost a never-ending task and from that moment on, he had promised himself he would never go through that again.

Fires were too dangerous and he was no firefighter.

He was only another young man trying to make his dreams come true by working in a café to support himself until his side gig could become his main thing. That was his path towards happiness. And a life full of puppies of course.

He headed towards another afternoon shift with that certainty in mind, a smile dancing on his lips.

But his smile fell as soon as he entered the café and caught a certain someone’s presence. Jonghyun headed straight towards the back, quickly greeting his colleague, before rushing to hide in the employees’ room.

Panic rose inside him as he thought of having to face the other again.

What is he even doing here?

Okay, Jjong, calm down. This is a café, he can come by for a drink.

But why here?

Maybe he’s meeting Minho here again…

Yeah, that’s it.

Calming himself down with that thought, he changed into his black uniform and finally stepped out to settle behind the counter. He immediately initiated small talk with his younger colleague to distract himself. The other went on about his day and Jonghyun tried really hard to pay attention, but it was practically impossible as he felt a gaze on him.

He didn’t dare look back, but there was no doubt in his mind whose gaze it was.

He prayed for Minho to step in and steal the show, but his arrival never occurred. An hour passed during which Jonghyun and his colleague had enough customers to distract themselves for a bit, but not enough that Jonghyun couldn’t catch the glances that were thrown his way a few tables away from where he was.

Soon after, his colleague’s shift ended and the traffic slowed down drastically, leaving him to panic again. He dared give a look towards his table and found him looking at his laptop’s screen, brows furrowed in deep concentration. The sight had Jonghyun captivated despite himself.

He suddenly wondered what this man’s story was. His passions, his dreams, his fears… Before snapping himself back to attention with a slight shake of the head.

No. I don’t need to know that.

What he did need to know was why this man had decided to come study here if he wasn’t meeting up with Minho. His mind kept running with the question on a track that seemed to have no end, making frustration grow inside him more and more.

Fortunately for him, the door opened just as he was about to lose his mind. His face lit up with joy as Minho stepped in.

‘’ You’ve never looked so happy to see me before, ‘’ the younger one bantered as he stopped in front of him.

Jonghyun immediately toned it down a notch, retrieving his more neutral expression. ‘’ I’m just relieved you didn’t stand up your study partner, ‘’ he casually noted.

Minho’s eyes widened. ‘’ Eh? ‘’

Jonghyun frowned. ‘’ Jinki’s been here for a few hours now. Weren’t you meeting up with him? ‘’

The same surprised expression stayed stuck on the other’s face before he turned around.

Jonghyun followed his gaze, but immediately brought it back towards the counter when Jinki looked their way.

‘’ Ah, Minho, glad to see you, ‘’ Jinki warmly greeted.

‘’ Same here, Jinki, ‘’ Minho reciprocated with a smile before turning back again. 

‘’ We had no plans to study together, Jjongie, ‘’ he then told him as he crossed his arms on the counter.

Jonghyun frowned again when a mischievous smile crossed the other’s lips.

‘’ Why are you smiling like that? ‘’

‘’ Just because, ‘’ Minho shrugged before giving a quick look behind him again. ‘’ I guess Jinki really likes this place, huh? ‘’

‘’ He’s only been here three times, ‘’ Jonghyun retorted.

‘’ He came here another time? ‘’ The younger one all but yelled as his eyes doubled in size again.

The death stare Jonghyun gave him made him calm down. In a hushed voice, he said, ‘’ Jinki doesn’t even live in the area. He’s a rich kid, Jjong. ‘’

Jonghyun blinked a few times, his mind paralyzed from the new input.

Minho’s chuckle snapped him out of it. ‘’ That’s why he didn’t fall for my irresistible charm… You caught his attention. ‘’

The satisfied smile Minho was sporting as he looked at him made him want to punch him in the face.

‘’ Stop being ridiculous, Minho, ‘’ Jonghyun scowled.

‘’ Tell me that again when he gets into your pants, ‘’ Minho teased, wiggling his brows.

Jonghyun felt his face heat up at the gross thought. ‘’ Could you please shut up, Minho? ‘’

His words came out in a snarl as anger stepped in to shield him from the other emotions that were menacing to overwhelm him.

But Minho didn’t relent. ‘’ You’d be in luck, Jjongie. From what I could see, he’s packing good stuff down there. ‘’

Jonghyun turned the other way as he felt his ears burn. The other’s smug laughter only added salt to the wound, making him now wish his friend could disappear.

‘’ He’s cute, Jjongie… Very cute, ‘’ Minho said, a slight purr lacing his voice. ‘’ When he does come on to you, please don’t be jerk, ‘’ he then advised.

Jonghyun immediately turned back around at that. ‘’ Even if what you’re saying holds any truth, who says I’m interested? ‘’

A boisterous laugh left the other. ‘’ Oh my god, Jjong, please… ‘’

The older one’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know what was so funny, but he certainly wasn’t laughing. Maybe when Minho would finally shut his trap, would he tell him about his wonderful life plan, so they would never have another conversation like that again.

‘’ I’m happy for you Jjongie, I really am, ‘’ Minho voiced in a softer tone as he wiped away the tears that had pearled at the corners of his eyes.

‘’ There’s nothing to be happy about, ‘’ Jonghyun shot back before pointing to the door.

‘’ Can you please leave now? ‘’ he urged as his patience level reached under 0.

‘’ Of course, sweetheart, ‘’ Minho said a little too loudly to Jonghyun’s liking before he leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Jonghyun completely froze, dumbfounded by his friend’s action. He stared at him in horror when he finally pulled away.

‘’ What the fuck, Minho? ‘’ he raged under his breath.

The latter grinned. ‘’ See you later, Jjongie, ‘’ he replied with a wink.

Before Jonghyun could pull out an answer out of him, the tall brunette strode towards the door and left.

After a few minutes of staring in anger at the door, Jonghyun finally recovered his wits and remembered where he was and how he was supposed to act. He grabbed a cloth again and cleaned the spot on the counter that Minho had leaned on before giving a quick look around.

He felt his face get warm again when he found dark eyes looking right at him.

                                                   ***

It was pouring like crazy outside and Jonghyun was counting down the minutes until he could get back home. No one had stepped into the café in hours and he was pretty sure no one would for the rest of the day.

Boredom was driving him crazy and the last cup of coffee he had just taken did nothing to alleviate his sleepiness. He had spent the whole night up working on drawings before having to come here to open the shop.

He was working solo from opening to closing since he was the only employee who didn't have academic constraints. He didn't mind it though; he had always preferred working alone.

Nonetheless, his brain still needed a little stimulation. Staring out the shop's window at the rain pouring had had its charm for a few minutes, but his mind had quickly asked for more.

It had started asking questions and going down certain paths, but Jonghyun had shut them down immediately.

His fingers were now itching to hold a pencil and draw, but he was scared that the moment he acted on his desire, a customer would walk in.

He let another fifteen minutes go by before finally giving in. He rushed to the back and came back with a notepad and a pencil. He naturally started drawing a dachshund because his obsession had just grown even stronger over the past few days. He knew he had to get one soon to make sure he’d stay on the right track. He smiled as he stared back at the puppy he had brought to life just from the touch of his pencil on a paper.

He then looked at the clock and scrunched up his nose. Only 10 more minutes had gone by. He gave a quick look to the door again before he flipped the page to start over on a new one. This time he just let his hand direct the pencil whichever way it wanted to go.

He found himself outlining someone’s face and got excited at the idea of having a new original character to work with. He operated fast, keeping his mind out of the process, every stroke of his pencil bringing him closer to a new life, to a new story to add to his imaginary world.

But when he stared back at the final product, his excitement totally dropped and in its place, fear rose fiercely inside him. Without thinking, he ripped the drawing apart in as many pieces as he could before throwing them out in the bin behind him.

Jonghyun stepped back away from it, still shaken by what had just happened. He closed his eyes to regain his composure, but the sound of the door suddenly opening put him on edge again. He turned back around only to have his heart leap inside his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the one who had just entered.

A soaked-looking Jinki shook off some water from his hands before stepping in further.

‘’ It’s open, right? ‘’ He asked with a worried look as he glimpsed around.

Jonghyun could only nod, shaken to the bone by the sudden overlap between his mind’s work and reality.

While he just stood there, the other moved forward until the counter became the only thing separating them.

‘’ I really need something warm right now, ‘’ he softly said before his face lit up with yet another big smile.

The pink-haired barista instantly grew hot in the face and shied away to keep himself safe.

‘’ You can sit… I’ll bring you the menu, ‘’ he managed to say despite the turmoil racking his body.

‘’ No need for that, I know what I want. ‘’

The instant reply had Jonghyun look his way again, a hint of surprise glinting in his eyes.

‘’ Oh, okay… ‘’

Jonghyun felt his chest and throat tighten as the brunette didn’t follow with any words, but instead gave him an intent look.

‘’ So… what can I get you? ‘’ he went on, his words tumbling out of his mouth with an uneasiness that just made him feel ten times worse.

‘’ I’d like a black coffee… ‘’ Jinki slowly said.

‘’ Okay sure, I-

‘’ And a date with you, ‘’ the brunette quickly added.

Jonghyun’s mouth fell open as his eyes widened in disbelief. If it wasn’t for the dark blush that instantly stained the other’s cheeks, he would’ve been sure his mind was playing tricks on him.

‘’ E-excuse me? ‘’ he blurted out nonetheless.

Jinki seemed to recoil into himself, but he still answered.

‘’ I'm sorry for being so forward, but after I saw you and Minho together I thought that I shouldn't lose my chance. ‘’

Jonghyun's brows furrowed at that. ‘’ Minho? He's just-

‘’ A friend. I know, I made sure of that, ‘’ Jinki swiftly cut in.

Jonghyun's mouth shut close as his brain imploded from all the other had just said.

‘’ Is that too creepy? ‘’ Jinki picked up as he watched the other's terrified expression with worry.

Jonghyun couldn't really say anything to that when he had just caught himself drawing his face on instinct.

‘’ I... It's just... ‘’ Jonghyun took in a sharp inhale, closing his eyes for a second.

‘’ I don't understand. ‘’

The words rang heavily in the air, leaving a few seconds of silence behind them.

‘’ What don't you understand? ‘’ 

The question came out of the brunette carefully, quietly.

Jonghyun's answer was much more assured. ‘’ Why not Minho? ‘’

Jinki's face lit up with surprise before it darkened with a frown.

‘’ He's not my type. ‘’

Jonghyun's shoulders relaxed unbeknownst to him, but his mind remained doubtful.

‘’ This doesn't make any sense... ‘’ He dismissed with a shake of his head.

‘’ You don't know me. So how can I be your type? ‘’

The words fell from his mouth sharply, making Jinki look back at him with shame, finally tearing his gaze away when his expression grew even more serious. 

‘’ I don't know what to say... ‘’ Jinki shyly admitted as he stared down at the counter.

Jonghyun felt a hybrid sense of satisfaction and sadness swell in his chest at the admission.

‘’ Maybe it's something as shallow as physical or sexual attraction, but to be honest, I really feel like it's more than that, ‘’ Jinki suddenly shared as he seemed to emerge from a deep train of thought.

‘’ I feel like if we got to know each other, we could... ‘’

Jonghyun felt his heart race at the sight of the brunette blushing again.

‘’ We could what? ‘’ he pressed as he forgot himself.

Jonghyun caught the slight waver that troubled the other's gaze, making him even more impatient.

‘’ We could fall in love. ‘’

                                                      ***

Love had always been a weird notion to Jonghyun. So weird that when the opportunity to experience it had knocked on his door, he almost hadn't answered.

Staying in with his imaginary precious puppies seemed like a far better and safe plan, but what Jonghyun realized was that love didn't just knock once and leave if ignored. It did whatever it took to get the attention it deserved.

Jonghyun finally gave in to the idea of considering their regular interactions as being something more than two people being polite with each other when Jinki held his hand one night after they came out of a movie theater. 

The acrobatics his heart did at that moment made him sure his final minutes were upon him before he realized his heart only seemed to go crazy like that when he was around Jinki.

The feeling scared the shit out of him, but the patience and care the other deployed towards him comforted him enough not to skip town and hide away forever.

It was another few weeks before Jonghyun's heart condition worsened. He literally felt it burst inside his chest when Jinki first kissed him on the doorstep of his mother's house. The only thing that saved him from not collapsing to the floor was Jinki's strong hold around his waist.

That same night, Jonghyun decided that his heart wouldn't have enough space for seven puppies and a full-grown man. 

One puppy and a full-grown man would do just fine.

That plan settled well within him until they had their first fight two weeks later. It was a misunderstanding about one of Jinki’s acquaintances, but before it could be cleared up, Jonghyun experienced the horrible pain of feeling his heart break in a million pieces. It took a while for it to hold together again, but with extra communication (which didn’t come to Jonghyun easy), reassuring kisses and time, it did.

And it changed. Jonghyun found himself being much more vulnerable and open which only made their connection deeper. In the process, he felt himself become more soft, needy and clingy around the other until he couldn’t get enough of the few hours they spent with each other almost every day.

One night, Jonghyun found himself asking the other to stay the night. It was his first time asking anyone to stay over.

‘’ Are you sure? ‘’ Jinki softly asked as he rubbed circles with his thumb over the other’s wrist.

They were standing in front of Jonghyun’s house again after an evening out to a restaurant and a follow-up at a small local bar.

Jonghyun had only had one drink, but still, he found himself blaming the alcohol for the words that left his mouth afterwards.

‘’ Yes, I think I’m ready. ‘’

He blushed furiously as Jinki’s eyes widened in shock. ‘’ You mean… ‘’

‘’ I don’t know… I just… I want you to stay, ‘’ Jonghyun sputtered as he fumbled with his own embarrassment.

‘’ Isn’t your family inside, I mean… ‘’

‘’ No, ‘’ Jonghyun quickly filled in. ‘’ My mom and sister went to visit family. ‘’

Jinki’s face relaxed before lighting up with a sweet smile. ‘’ I’ll gladly stay, baby. ‘’

Jonghyun felt his stupid, weak heart flip at the pet name. Before he could think more about it, he pulled the other inside and closed the door behind them.

That night Jonghyun finally let love inside. It spread through him like wildfire as it reached deep within him, making his heart stop momentarily before it exploded behind his eyes.

When he looked into Jinki’s eyes, he could see that his heart had exploded too.

                                                     ***

‘’ Hellooo! ‘’

Jonghyun abruptly came out of the daze he had inadvertently been plunged into only to see Minho’s lips curl into a wicked grin.

‘’ I know that face. ‘’

‘’ Huh? ‘’ Jonghyun let out, dumbfounded.

Minho chuckled. ‘’ Jinki took your innocence, huh? ‘’

Jonghyun’s eyes widened before he felt heat flush his face, making him look away and grab a cloth again.

‘’ I don’t know what you are talking about, ‘’ he feigned as his hand moved in a circular motion over the vinyl counter.

The other snickered at that before leaning as close as he could from the other side of the counter. ‘’ So…’’ He all but purred. ‘’ Was I right? Is he packing good stuff? ‘’

Jonghyun glared at his friend’s malicious grin, very tempted to wipe it off his smug face, but too discomforted by his body’s reaction to the question to actually go through with it. Plus, he was at work, so he had to stay professional.

‘’ That’s none of your fucking business, ‘’ he simply retorted.

‘’ Oh come on, Jjong. I tell you everything, ‘’ Minho wildly protested as Jonghyun turned the other way to sort out some utensils.

‘’ That’s your problem, not mine, ‘’ he curtly dismissed.

There was a pause, but Jonghyun knew better than to turn back around. That’s exactly what the other wanted.

‘’ So it’s like that, huh? ‘’ Minho finally said, his tone heavy with frustration. ‘’ Fine. I can leave. ‘’

Jonghyun rolled his eyes at the other’s childish antics before giving in to his pathetic threat.

‘’ Stop asking me stupid questions and I’ll stop ignoring you, ‘’ he indicated as if it were the most basic principle in the world.

Minho snorted. ‘’ You should be extra nice to me. I’m the reason you met Jinki, ‘’ he reminded.

‘’ How could I ever forget? ‘’ Jonghyun returned, exasperation clear in his voice. ‘’ You keep reminding us every chance you get.

‘’ Do you want a medal or something? ‘’ he then added when he saw Minho’s expectant look.

His grumpiness quickly subsided when his friend’s expression suddenly became sullen.

‘’ No, I don’t want a medal, Jjong, ‘’ the tall brunette squarely replied. ‘’ What I want is for things to stay the same between us, ‘’ he then shared before his lips tightened into a grim line.

Brows furrowed, Jonghyun immediately asked, ‘’ What do you mean? ‘’

‘’ I barely see you anymore, Jjongie, ‘’ Minho answered in the quietest voice Jonghyun had ever heard from him.

That made his stomach knot with guilt. ‘’ I’m sorry, Minho… I just-

‘’ You’re in love, ‘’ Minho completed in his stead as the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

‘’ And I’m so happy for you, I really am, ‘’ he went on to clear up the cloud of guilt he could see in his friend’s eyes.

‘’ Just don’t forget about your old pal Minho, ‘’ he finished, his smile still elusive.

‘’ I would never, ‘’ Jonghyun dismissed in a heartbeat, a little hurt that the other would ever think that. But he couldn’t blame him, he knew how he could be. That could only help remind him that he could do a better job at showing Minho how much he meant to him.

Minho’s face finally brightened into a real smile. ‘’ Great, ‘’ he acknowledged before going on excitedly.

‘’ When are you getting off, we could do something if you want… ‘’

Jonghyun offered him an apologetic look. ‘’ Um… Jinki’s supposed to come by later… ‘’

‘’ But we can do something this weekend. Whatever you want, ‘’ the pink-haired young man quickly proposed as he caught the immediate slump of the other’s shoulders.

That seemed enough to stop the wave of disappointment that had menaced to wash over the brunette.

‘’ Yaaay, ‘’ he cheered before laughing softly.

‘’ I’ll let you be then, I should actually be studying, ‘’ he then indicated, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but laugh at that. ‘’ Yes, you should, ‘’ he encouraged. ‘’ Got any new study partners? ‘’

His teasing tone had Minho pouting. ‘’ No. I’m done with that. ‘’

Jonghyun brought a hand over his mouth as he laughed again. ‘’ Okay, if you say so, ‘’ he managed to utter once he settled a bit.

With a huff, the brunette said, ‘’ That’s my cue to leave. See you later, Jjong, ‘’ he added as his face relaxed into another smile.

Jonghyun smiled back. ‘’ See you soon, ‘’ he echoed before the other turned on his heel, walked towards the door and left.

For a few seconds, Jonghyun just stayed there, letting himself appreciate the fact that he was truly lucky to have such a friend in his life.

His eyes then travelled upwards to the clock before him as the image of another man he loved very much flashed in his mind. Excitement instantly tingled in his stomach as he realized that in less than two hours, he’d be able to see him again.

                                                      ***

Jonghyun didn’t think he had ever seen something more beautiful than Jinki’s smile. His heart always stopped whenever he witnessed it and right now was no exception. As the handsome brunette walked up to him with a grin that reached his eyes, he truly prayed that his heart would remember how to work.

Fortunately, he didn’t die in the seconds that followed even when Jinki wrapped his arms around his small waist.

‘’ How was work, baby? ‘’ Jinki softly asked, smile still dancing on his lips.

‘’ It was okay… I missed you, ‘’ Jonghyun immediately shared as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

‘’ I missed you too… a lot, ‘’ Jinki said as he pulled the smaller one a little closer.

A quiet gasp left Jonghyun as Jinki claimed his lips. He sighed at the softness of the other’s lips and the tightening hold around him before a moan tore from his throat when Jinki’s tongue found its way into the warmth of his mouth to meet his. One of his hands instinctively went to the back of the taller one’s neck as the kiss deepened.

Jonghyun didn’t even mind that they were in front of his workplace, not when he was finally getting what he had been craving for the past two days. Closeness.

He didn’t let go of him even when they had to pull away from the kiss to catch their breaths.

‘’ What do you want to do? ‘’ he quietly asked in the small space left between them, his chest slightly heaving.  

‘’ Whatever you want to do, ‘’ Jinki instantly replied, a sweet smile cracking his lips again.

Jonghyun averted his gaze as he felt himself blush. ‘’ I didn’t think of anything… ‘’

A soft laugh shook Jinki’s shoulders. ‘’ It’s okay, we can just walk a bit, it’s a beautiful evening. ‘’

Jonghyun nodded and a second later, they were walking side by side, their hands naturally finding each other's.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the fresh breeze of the fading day softly brushing over their skins as they basked in the simplicity of the moment.

An overwhelming sense of happiness took over the smaller one's body as he realized how perfect this moment was.

Under the darkening blue canvas that was the sky, adorned with accents of orange and pink, he was just a drop of life that had against all odds found his match amidst the ocean that was the billions of people on this planet.

The thought had a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his gaze mindlessly following the movement of his feet.

‘’ What are you smiling at? ‘’

The sudden inquiry made his heart jump inside his chest before he gave a look to his left. Meeting chocolate eyes, he said, ‘’ Nothing, I’m just… happy, ‘’ he pinpointed before a bashful smile swept across his lips.  

‘’ I hope I have something to do with that, ‘’ Jinki teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  

A soft laugh tumbled out of Jonghyun’s mouth. ‘’ You have everything to do with it, ‘’ he confirmed as he squeezed the other’s hand tighter.

The brunette grinned. ‘’ Same goes for me, Jjongie. ‘’

They kept on walking for a while, sharing smiles every few seconds, before the brunette brought them to a halt.

‘’ Oh, Jjongie, look, ‘’ he said as he pointed to the other side of the street.

The older one followed his gaze instantly. Embarrassment tightened his chest as he recognized the place.

‘’ Why would you even mention that? ‘’ Jonghyun reproached with a slight pout.

‘’ How could I not? ‘’ Jinki countered with a chuckle. ‘’ It’s where we had our first date. ‘’

Jonghyun snorted. ‘’ You called that a date? ‘’

‘’ Yeah, definitely, ‘’ Jinki answered on the spot. ‘’ After that, I knew I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you. ‘’

A furious blush colored the other’s cheeks as heat pulsed through his body. ‘’ Stop saying ridiculous things… ‘’

‘’ I’m not, ‘’ Jinki argued with a fond smile. ‘’ You were blushing a lot too that night and you were so damn cute, it was hard not to kiss you, ‘’ he reminisced as he brought his free hand up to caress Jonghyun’s cheek.

The latter’s lashes fluttered against his soft touch as he tried to calm the wild reaction of his heart.

‘’ I was a mess, ‘’ he persisted as he remembered how awkward he had been. That whole night had just been a stressful nightmare and he had been sure at that moment that the brunette would never want to see him again.

‘’ You were the most adorable mess then, ‘’ Jinki settled before planting a kiss on his pink shock of hair.  

‘’ Whatever, ‘’ Jonghyun brushed off, still battling with embarrassment.

Laughing a soft, breathy laugh, Jinki said, ‘’ We can always have a do-over if you want. It’s right there. ‘’

Jonghyun scrunched up his nose in disgust. ‘’ I’d rather not. They don’t even have good rum. ‘’

‘’ Oh right, ‘’ Jinki instantly recalled. ‘’ Yeah, let’s find some other place. ‘’

‘’ How about we go to your place? ‘’ Jonghyun proposed, his voice low.

‘’ Do you have anything in mind? ‘’ Jinki inquired not without a hint of mischievousness.

‘’ No… ‘’ Jonghyun’s voice trailed as he leaned a little closer, lips almost brushing the other’s ear. ‘’ Just wanna be alone with you. ‘’

He glanced on the slow bob of the taller one’s Adam’s apple as he pulled back a bit, the sight making his stomach flutter.

‘’ That sounds perfect, ‘’ Jinki settled with a slight strain of urgency in his voice.

The next second he was leading them the other way, almost dragging the smaller one into a fast walk as if they were going to be late somewhere.

Jonghyun fought back a laugh at the other’s eagerness. ‘’ There really is no rush. ‘’

‘’ Hmm, I will have to disagree with you on that one, ‘’ Jinki replied, eyes set straight ahead.

Jonghyun now couldn’t help breaking into laughter at his boyfriend’s serious expression. The latter looked his way and a second later, his face relaxed into a smile.

‘’ I’m glad I was right, ‘’ Jinki pondered out loud.

‘’ Hmm? ‘’ Jonghyun hummed as a cute frown creased his brow.

‘’ About us, ‘’ the brunette shared. ‘’ Being with you … feels amazing, ‘’ he went on, his dark eyes locking with paler ones.  

Jonghyun felt himself blush again. ‘’ I’m glad you were right too, ‘’ he said, his voice all but a whisper.  

Jinki’s smile made him smile again before they both looked ahead, minds basking in the promise of another lovely evening together.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but think that love was still weird, love was still scary, but being with Jinki made all of that pale in comparison to what love felt to him right now.

It just felt…

So nice.

 ***************************************************************************************************************************

AFF   AO3

[m0llymauk-tealeaf]

Sweet and Sour (Kiribaku Fake Dating AU) Chapter 1

Hey, I hope you guys enjoy this! I’m tryin out something new by posting my more for fun writing on here. 

REBLOGS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! 

Bakugou slammed the front door of his house shut, kicking his shoes off and throwing his sweat soaked shirt to the floor. It was eight, almost nine at night, and he had just gotten home from a two week mission on the other side of the country. He was exhausted, wanting nothing more than a warm bath and approximately seventy-two hours of sleep.

He’d stripped down to his boxers by the time he made it to the bathroom, his phone in his hand. He started his ‘relaxing music’ playlist (which mostly consisted of nineties and early two-thousands emo music), yanked his boxers down, and stepped into the shower. As soon as Bakugou turned the tap, the loud, annoying noise of his ringtone smacked him like a giant hammer. Groaning, Bakugou stepped out of the shower and answered the call.

“What?” He spat.

“Hey Katsuki, how are you?” His mother asked.

“Fuckin’ tired.”

“Are you back from your big mission yet?”

“Just got back. Was about to take a fucking shower, but *someone* had to fucking interrupt me.”

“Don’t talk that way to your fucking mother, Katsuki. Have some goddamn respect.”

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Why did you call me?”

“I need you back home for the twentieth.” It was currently the seventeenth, but yeah, he’d *totally* be able to make it back home in that short about of time. “And I expect you to bring a date with you. Someone cute. Haru’s gonna be back too, and he’s bringing a date. I do *not* want him and his family fucking showing us up, alright?”

“Alright.”

The line went dead with no warning or goodbye. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. *Why* did it have to be Haru? *Why* couldn’t it have been some friend from middle school that he *didn’t* care about or remember that much, and not his first fucking boyfriend?

He needed a date. Yeah, the abrasive, angry, asshole would definitely be able to get a date. Well, there was someone he could probably ask…

He had one chance. He picked up his phone to make another call.

___

Kirishima stretched his arms above his head, twisting his neck from side to side before plopping down on his bed with a protein bar. He’d been apart of the small team of heroes chosen to save the son of a politician who had been kidnapped by some… overzealous, to say the least, protesters. He’d just gotten home.

Kirishima scrolled through social media as he munched on his bar, enjoying the little bit of free time he was given. His eye was caught by a picture his friend Jirou had posted on her Instagram. It showed her girlfriend’s hand with a beautiful ring proudly displayed on her ring finger. The caption under it said, “She said yes!” Followed by a ring and a bride emoji. Seeing the picture, he couldn’t help but think of a certain man…

Kirishima jumped, dropping his phone on the floor as it rang. He reached over and grabbed his phone, quickly checking the caller ID.

’Bakugou Katsuki’

“Hey,” he said as he picked up the phone. “Not like you to call. What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“So, this is really fucking embarrassing, but uhm… my parents are having some party or something, and I need to bring a date with me when I go, so… do you wanna pretend to be my boyfriend for a few days? I’ll pay you if you do.”

What? Was this a dream? It had to be a dream.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Fucking hell, Eijirou, I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend so I don’t have to see my ex with someone else while I’m fucking alone!”

“O-Oh, uhm… okay?”

“I’ll pay for all your travel and everything, just… do stuff that a boyfriend would do, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m trusting you, Ei.”

His heart fluttered as the blond hung up. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Act like he was in a relationship with Bakugou. Pretend to love him. As if he had to pretend.

Kirishima’s little, gay heart felt like it was about to swell and explode. He was going to smother Bakugou in love while he had the chance. He’d probably never have this chance again, so he might as well take advantage of it.

He needed to tell Kaminari.

Kiri: “Kaminari. Dude. Bro.”

Kiri: “Do I have something to fucking tell you.”

Kami: “Did Bakugou suck your dick on the train ride home?”

Kiri: “NO but it’s almost as good.”

Kami: “Spill the fuckin tea, bitch.”

Kiri: “Bakugou kinda sorta asked me to be his date to an event with his family? But he told me to fake it?”

Kami: “Excuse me?

Kiri: “Apparently his ex’s gonna be there and he didn’t want them to see him alone bc they had another partner.”

Kami: “Alright tell me when he sucks your dick.”

Kiri: “KAMINARI STOP”

Kami: “Kay Imma go tell Sero bout this night night”

Kiri: “Goodnight”

Kirishima took a deep breath, then placed his phone on the table beside his bed. His mind was filled with thoughts; Thoughts of Bakugou, the time they’d be spending together, all the possible ways he could try to sweep the blond off his feet. Would that even happen? Was Kirishima good enough for him? Bakugou wouldn’t have asked him to be his fake boyfriend if he wasn’t good enough to be his real boyfriend, would he? God. Thinking was too hard for him at the moment.

But how would Bakugou react to his feelings? Would he be able to take Bakugou rejecting him? What if he decided he didn’t want to be friends with Kirishima anymore because he had feelings for him? Was that a stupid thing to think? Would that happen?

Kirishima glanced over at the alarm clock on his bedside table every few minutes; 11:27 pm, still thinking of Bakugou. 11:32 pm, still thinking of Bakugou. 11:43 pm, Bakugou. 11:51 pm, Bakugou. 12:00 am, Bakugou. 12:10 am, Bakugou. And on. And on. And on, and on, and on, and on. Here Kirishima was, stressing about Bakugou, while Bakugou was probably asleep. He’d probably been asleep for hours.

___

Baku: “What kind of flowers does Kirishima like?”

Kami: “Uh idk? Why do you wanna know?”

Baku: “I can’t just let him pretend to kiss me without giving him fucking flowers, dipshit.”

[therandomfics]

Ask Me Anything

You had been a social worker for two years now, all grown up and living in your own apartment in the busy and chaotic New York City. You were from a smaller, much less travelled area but went to school for your Bachelors and Masters at Hudson, and never left. The job wasn’t easy but it was rewarding, and you had been blessed to find a position outside of working for the State. From your graduating class, only a small handful had managed to avoid the doldrums of foster care cases, dismissed and thrown to the wayside until the child was 18.

Anytime you managed to find time to visit your friends from Hudson, you were reminded of how lucky you had gotten with your career. Of course, they might have found shit positions and mediocre pay, but they had found something more important - love. You preferred to tell yourself that they weren’t as happy as they seemed, but social media didn’t help qwell your jealousy at all. At least you could always busy yourself with work, right? Distractions were beneficial.. sometimes.

It was Friday. You were excited to leave the office, grab some takeout on the way home and hole up in the apartment for the weekend. The phone on your desk flashed and the receptionist, Anna, called out.

“Y/N. Miss Gardella?” She asked, correcting her greeting.

“Hi, Anna, what’s up?”

She sighed and you could hear the frown on her face. “I need you to come up front please. It’s.. well, please just come here.”

Hopping up and slipping your shoes back on, you walked to the lobby. Anna, biting her freshly manicured nails, turned to you and frowned.

“I’m sorry. You’re the only one here and this kid just wandered in, said his mother had an appointment here and he’s been waiting by the bus stop for her. It’s nearly 6pm, and our last patient left at 4:30.” Her brown eyes were welling with tears as you patted her arm and motioned for her to go back to her desk.

The little boy looked to be about 8, with carrot hued hair and a slew of freckles across his face. He sat kicking his feet, staring up at the television that was playing a loop of Dumbo.

“Hey, Buddy,” you said gently, sitting down across from him. “What’s your Mom’s name? I can call her if you want?”

It should have been easy - get a name, make a call, maybe he wandered off and she was frantic. But, no, that couldn’t be possible. His mom wasn’t a patient, and the amount of dirt on his clothing implied he hadn’t been home in a while. A few cuts, a lot more bruises, and the incessant grumbling from his stomach weren’t leaving you much choice. After half an hour, you locked the door to the office and told the little boy - James - he could stay and finish Dumbo, and Anna sat with the boy and gave him a bottle of water and several packs of graham crackers. The sounds of a circus faded as you walked back to your office. Leaning against the wall with your phone pressed to your ear, you waited for an answer.

“Special Vicitims Unit, Detective Carisi.”

“Hi, Detective. My name is Y/N Gardella. I’m a social worker at The Wellspring Center here in Manhattan. There’s a child here who just wandered in, seems like he’s had a rough day at the very least. I.. don’t think calling CPS will be too helpful on a Friday night...” you trailed off and stared at the diploma hanging on the wall. All of that schooling and you didn’t know how to explain yourself.

“Mrs. Gardella, I can be there in fifteen - maybe twenty minutes. Thanks for the call,” he said, and hung up.

“Miss,” you muttered in correction and shoved your phone in your pocket.

As promised, the Detective arrived in about 15 minutes. You granted him access to the office and thanked him for being so quick.

“James,” you began, and knelt down in front of the child. “This is Mr. Carisi. He’s going to help us find your Momma, okay?”

The boy only nodded, but grabbed at your sweater as you stood up and tried to walk away. It was flattering that he felt comforted by you, but you had zero experience in your current situation. You administered psychological testing, and rarely spoke with patients outside of delivering test results.

“Looks like you’re staying with us, Mrs. Gardella,” the Detective said with a small smile.

“Miss.” You offered him a return of emotion and sat down, allowing James to crawl into your lap immediately. He nuzzled his face against your chest and left a smear of muddy graham cracker where his cheek rested.

The Detective went through a laundry list of questions. Age, last name, Mom’s appearance, phone number, school, anything. The youngster provided solid answers and the Carisi relayed them to his Commanding Officer, a Lieutenant on the other end of the phone. Turned out, Mom was a junkie and Dad was doing hard time out of state for something undisclosed. Carisi took the boy with him and promised to keep you updated on the situation. You thanked him and locked up, finally heading home. So much for a cozy night in.

That night, you called your Mom and chatted for a while, then cried yourself to sleep.

Several days passed. No word about the child. Of course, legally they weren’t obligated to inform you of anything, but you hoped someone would call. Maybe Carisi would? You rolled your eyes at the thought - why did you let your mind wander? You didn’t even know him. He could be married. He could be gay. Maybe he was a terrible person. There was no point in fantasizing about a handsome NYPD Detective.

“Y/N,” Anna whispered, slipping into your office and shutting the door. “That hot cop is back! I told him you didn’t have any more appointments and he wants to follow up about the kid.”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Right. Well, send him in. And don’t call him a hot cop - that’s so disrespectful.”

Anna rolled her eyes and let out a laugh before she disappeared back down the hall. A moment later, the Detective stood in your door way, asking to come in.

“Detective,” you greeted and stood up. You waved him in and met him halfway, offering your hand to shake his. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been thinking about you.” You stopped and dropped his hand. “I mean the situation from Friday. Is he ok?” You waved your hand towards the chairs in front of your desk and then sat back down.

“That’s why I’m here,” he replied and sank down into one of the plush leather chairs. “I can’t say too much, but we found his mother and the situation wasn’t gonna work. He’s not gonna stay with her. We called CPS, got him into emergency foster care and..”

You leaned forward and rested your elbows on your desk. “And...”

“I called to check on him and he ran away. Hasn’t been there since Sunday night. Been missing three days now.” He furrowed his brow and sighed. “Sometimes this fucking job..”

“I’m sure,” you sympathized with a frown. He looked so miserable.

“I’m sorry. Hey look, I gotta get back to work but thanks for being decent and calling.” He flashed a smile and stood up, buttoning his suit jacket.

“Detective,” you felt like you were going to vomit. “How do you handle it? Isn’t it impossible? How do you go in every day knowing it’s like James or worse?”

He laughed - though you knew you weren’t funny - and headed for the door. “I can’t answer that now, but I get off at 7 granted there’s no new case. Can-“

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you can ask me anything at 7.”

[arabellaflynn]

I've made an interesting discovery: The Eccentric is quite possibly the only person I've ever met who understands jealousy even less than I do. The Eccentric is, as implied by his pseudonym, very eccentric. Mrs. Eccentric has made the occasional crack about him being from the Land of No Boundaries, but that isn't actually true. A lot of them are just in strange places, such that if you try to go casually lean on one expecting to find it in the usual spot you may end up tipping over and falling into a big confusing void. He is aware that he wants weird things out of life, and negotiates for them very directly, probably because he's realized that this is so beyond the norm that nobody is ever going to give him what he wants unless he tells them what it is. The first thing he made clear when we started talking about dance lessons was that he is VERY married, he was NOT looking to step out on his wife, and he did NOT want me to feel like I was being creeped on. I appreciate this. Anyone who looks female and does social dance gets hit on annoyingly often, and if someone thinks their creeping is being successful, then "sure, let's dance" sounds a lot like "Netflix & chill". The second thing he made clear, though, is that he wants a lot of emotional engagement from his regular dance partners. A lot. He kept telling me I should look at my partner with 'passion'  ("...or derision, you know, whatever you're feeling." That got him a sort of fond amusement, which was more or less where I was at the time). I summed up his novella-length explanation as duende once and he seemed to think it was pretty accurate. It intensely personal, it is very intimate, and it is specifically what he is looking to get out of this. I looked all that over and went, well, it's definitely a weird shape for a relationship, but I have a high tolerance for weird, and I am personally comfortable with where all of those lines are drawn. So sure, let's dance. There are, broadly speaking, two big problems with entering into this dynamic:

I like this a lot.

Wives and girlfriends generally don't.

You would think this man would drive me batty; he is extrovert-squared and extremely high-energy, especially in crowds. Last time I saw him I put an hour-long entry in my calendar, immediately after the event, that just said "buffer for [Eccentric] chatter", and I did in fact need it. But when he's dancing, 100% of this chaotic energy turns into hyperfocus and goes into the dance and his dance partner. It is strangely calm, like being in the eye of a hurricane. Being an introvert, I do best in interactions that are as close to one-on-one as possible. My brain is terrible at filtering the environment out, so the less random shit I have to process, the more likely I am to engage in the kind of meaty conversation that will result in my bonding with you. Normally I try to do this by moving to a quieter location, but apparently it can also be accomplished by just making sure you are eleventy billion times more salient than anything else in the room. Not altogether unlike using high-powered laser beams to force molecules ever closer to the stillness of absolute zero, now that I think of it. The rest of the world really does go away. I would go mad if I had someone all up in my space like that all the time. Romantically, platonically, metaphorical head-space, literal living space, doesn't matter. I need an uncommonly large amount of alone time or I will lose my mind. But I need moments of it to feel like I'm connected to the world. I spent a lot of my early life lacking it so badly I didn't even realize it was an option. I know Shakespeare wrote that thing about, "'Tis better to have loved and lost," yadda yadda, but Shakespeare was a jackass sometimes. I've been through plenty of emotional trauma, and hands-down the worst thing that has ever happened was finally finding out how it felt to connect with other people, and then grinding through a year or two where there was literally nobody in my life who was willing to give that to me. This is a thing that I want so hard I am incapable of being objective about it. I want it so hard that I don't trust myself to spot warning signs that someone's about to get mad at me for it. It doesn't matter much when I get those 'BFF connection' moments with one of my straight woman friends; their partners just go, "Gosh, my special lady found herself a new bestie! Super!" and think about it roughly never again. Gay men are also pretty chill. I dislike the term 'fag hag', but there's a reason that's a thing. If you happen to be a gay dude who prefers a more emotionally-open style of friendship, the easiest way to get it is still to befriend a bunch of women. To the best of my knowledge, nobody's husband or boyfriend has ever thrown a tantrum over me. [I've never had trouble with my bisexual friends, oddly. I presume that's because they date people who have made their peace with the idea that, while their partner might theoretically try to bang anyone else on the face of the Earth at any time, they're probably not going to bother.] I'm perfectly capable of being friends with straight men, but it's often more trouble than it's worth. I spend a lot of time being anxious that my existence is going to upset their partner. My 'I'd like to be somewhere quieter so I can focus on the conversation,' looks a lot like 'I want to be away from witnesses so I can get up to something underhanded,' if you are afflicted with a certain kind of emotional astigmatism. It's really hard for me to be secure in a friendship if there's always that nagging voice in the back of my mind, reminding me that our next conversation might be all about how, "my wife says I can't talk to you anymore". So, to get back to the topic sentence I typed about nine miles ago at the beginning of the blog entry, I figured if he could be weird and name things normally left unspoken, so could I. I had a chat with his wife, which turned out less, "So, uh, you okay with watching your husband put his mitts all over me?" and more, "When you refer to your husband's dance partners as his 'girlfriends', how much of that is snark?' (Answer: Not a lot. So far as I know, he's not literally dating any of them, but in terms of emotional investment? Pretty much. Also, I am now on the list.) In the circles where I run, the list of Things A Married Man Can Ethically Get Up To is isomorphic with the list of Things His Spouse Says He Can, so all I really wanted to know is whether she was cool with the weird boundary arrangement, and she is. I then pointed out to the Eccentric that the amount of emotional entanglement he wants from a dance partner is way beyond what most wives would be happy with, and yep! well aware! Then I commented that it had probably gotten him into a lot of trouble with a lot of girlfriends before he worked out how to handle it, and NOOOOOOOOOOOO. According to him, at least. There was a ranty bit of monologue about jealousy delivered in the traditional literary format of the Engineering people, 'This Makes No Sense To Me, Therefore It Is Stupid'. What I took away from that conversation was that there probably had been relationship trouble at some point(s), but it ended with a breathtaking quickness. The trouble, or possibly the relationship, depending on her reaction to him putting his foot down. You will be okay with his dance-girlfriends or you will not be his regular-girlfriend anymore. My policy has long been that the first one who insists on making my affection into a competition will immediately lose, but that if someone else is trying to make one of my friends choose, I will opt to bow out. I have a bunch of feelings about this, but they're mainly along the lines of frustration and sadness. There are so many connections I'm not allowed to have because it will make some other person feel bad. I don't feel this way and I don't like it at all, but I try to remember that other people do feel this way and they don't like it either, and avoid putting them in that position. Fighting for someone else's attention just makes everyone miserable. I don't know that I've ever met someone who is so openly contemptuous as the Eccentric is, of the idea that someone in his own life would try to apply the jealousy argument to him, and think it was going to stick. Mrs. Eccentric would not be Mrs. Eccentric if she did not think all of her husband's various attachments were endearing. Moreover, this whole arrangement seems to be what he is meta-going for with all of this. I've met a bunch of his other partners (dance partners. Although, perhaps notably, he always leaves off the "dance" part when speaking of them) and we all seem to be of a type, up to and including his wife: Self-sufficient to a fault and headstrong to the point where we all at least started out backleading like crazy. He likes leading us because he likes feeling trusted, and the way he makes himself trustworthy is by negotiating all of the weird boundary settings out loud, and then sticking to whatever everyone agreed on. Anyone outside who wants to tell him it's inappropriate can go kick rocks. I still don't fully trust all this. Not because of anything anyone here has done, but because I've had many hard lessons in how much people lie to themselves about what their boundaries actually are, and how I am infinitely less important than whoever you are sleeping with. The only thing that's going to fix that is a sufficiently long stretch of time where nobody tries to start shit. from Blogger https://ift.tt/2JDoM3N via IFTTT -------------------- Enjoy my writing? Consider becoming a Patron, subscribing via Kindle, or just toss a little something in my tip jar. Thanks!